


Tiny Dancer (TeenLock/BalletLock AU)

by Sini333



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Ballet Dancer Sherlock Holmes, Don't Like Don't Read, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Rugby Captain John Watson, Sherlock is really shy, Teenlock, awkward teenlock, john is a sweetheart, our boys are cinnamon rolls, the boys are underage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 03:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13650582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sini333/pseuds/Sini333
Summary: Sherlock Holmes is a Ballet dancer, John Watson is the Captain of the Rugby team. Sherlock is way too shy and awkward, and John can't help but fall for the beautiful dancer.





	1. Tiny Dancer

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of super fluffy stories about John and Sherlock as a teen rugby captain and a teen Ballet dancer. There will be smut eventually, and I will put a warning on the chapters that have smut in them. This is one of the more popular AU's I have written, so I hope you all like it :) Enjoy<3
> 
> *I am still working on this one, but will post the new chapters as I write them... only another two left I think.*

"I don't get why I have to go to Harry's stupid recital." John grumbled, sending his mother an angry glare as they settled into their seats at the front of the crowd.

"John, you're seventeen, stop your pouting." His mother scolded, sending a flare of embarrassment across the teen as he leaned back in his chair, slouching dramatically and trying to keep his face hidden. He was supposed to be at Rugby practice, not watching his irritating little sister's Ballet recital. "Sit up straight for Christ's sake." John rolled his eyes and fixed his posture, crossing his arms and reluctantly watching the stage as the lights dimmed and the curtain rose.

The first several performances were the younger kids, stumbling through their routines awkwardly. It was cute, but John was unbelievably bored.

When it came time for Harry's performance, John's mother swatted the back of his head, making sure he was focusing. It was Harry's first performance without the whole group, and despite his complaining, John knew it was a big deal. She had been paired with one of the senior dancers in the troupe, and was apparently terrified about dancing with the older student.

The curtain rose, revealing Harry posed on the far-left side of the stage, her arms reaching for the ceiling and head bowed. On the opposite side of the stage, her partner was curled in on them self, both students frozen until the music started.

As Harry's partner sprung out of their original position, and John felt his jaw drop open in shock. Harry was dancing with a boy, a tall, thin boy that John recognized from his class.

The dance was stunning, both Harry and her partner moving in perfect sync across the stage. John spent the entirety of the song with his eyes glued to the boy, watching as he danced gracefully across the stage. He felt his chest tighten and his face burn when, at the end of the song, the boy lifted Harry over his head with surprising ease, holding her there for several seconds as the music stopped and the crowd erupted into applause. The boy lowered Harry and the pair bowed before they left the stage, the boy's composure never waning even though John could see the glee in his little sister's eyes.

John and his mother made their way backstage once it was permitted, searching for Harry in the crowd of dancers.

When they found her, she was chattering excitedly with her partner, whose name was still escaping John's mind. Harry caught sight of them and gripped the boy's elbow, dragging him over to where John and his mother were hovering.

"Mum! Did you see us? We did it!" Harry sprang into Mrs. Watson's arms, excitement pouring off her.

"I did! You both were amazing! I'm so proud of you Darling." John grinned at his sister, ruffling her hair and laughing as she swatted his hand away.

"Yeah, that was pretty cool Bug." John glanced at Harry's partner, offering the boy a shy smile. "I-I'm John, by the way." He offered his hand to the boy, who blushed slightly before taking his hand in a firm grip.

"Sherlock." Recognition flooded John as he finally connected the name to the face.

"Right, we have advanced chemistry together." Sherlock blinked rapidly, nodding shyly and blushing again, tugging at the hem of the loose t-shirt he was now wearing. "I didn't know you danced." Sherlock's blush deepened and he shrugged, avoiding John's gaze.

"Sherly is the best dancer in the whole troupe." Harry stated, wrapping an arm around Sherlock's waist and pulling him in for a hug. The taller boy looked shocked and slightly uncomfortable at the contact, quirking an eyebrow at Harry before reluctantly placing his arm around her shoulder.

"I'm not the best, and please don't call me Sherly." Harry ignored Sherlock, glancing between him and John for a moment before grinning mischievously and turning to Mrs. Watson.

"Mum, can Sherlock come for ice cream with us?"

"I don't remember saying anything about getting ice cream."

"Can we go get ice cream?" John laughed as his mother rolled her eyes, her resolve already caving.

"Fine, I'd like to get to know the young man who had his hands all over my baby girl." John snorted as Sherlock recoiled, pulling himself out of Harry's grip and blushing deeply.

"I-I'm not- it- it's not- we're not-" Harry pulled the confused boy back into her arms, laughing along with John and their mother at his distress.

"Relax Sherly, Mum knows nothing would happen between us. I came out to them last year." The blush didn't fade from Sherlock's face, and glanced almost anxiously at John. "You want to come?"

"I-I should go home. I have to study-"

"Come on Sherly! You always have to study."

"Don't call me that."

"Come with us and I'll stop." Sherlock sighed heavily, glancing at Mrs. Watson timidly while trying to wriggle out of Harry's grasp.

"She won't let you go until you agree." John offered, laughing at the distressed expression he received.

"Fine, I'll come. Only if you're alright with it, Mrs. Watson. I can pay for-"

"Of course I'm fine with it Dear, and don't worry about that. You're Harry's friend." Harry crowed, finally releasing Sherlock with a shove and spinning away.

John gasped as Sherlock stumbled into his arms, catching the taller boy before he fell. Sherlock blushed again, pushing out of John's arms and straightening his shirt, which had slipped off his shoulder.

"S-Sorry." He mumbled, stepping back a few feet and avoiding John's eyes.

"It's uh, it's fine." John felt his own face darken and rubbed the back of his neck, offering Sherlock a shy, lopsided grin as the boy started walking away. His eyes wandered down to the boy's arse before he could stop them, and he rubbed his face with his hands, sighing heavily.

Sherlock was going to get him in trouble.

 

 

It was a week after the recital before John saw Sherlock again. His mother had called, asking if John could pick up Harry from practice as she had to work late.

 

John arrived at the school, making his way to the Ballet studio. He knew he looked a mess, face covered in mud and scuffs on his jeans. He had come straight from Rugby practice and hadn't bothered to shower.

He stepped into the studio, glancing around the nearly empty room. Harry was no where to be seen, but Sherlock was sprawled out on the floor, not moving.

"Uh, Sherlock?" John asked, startling the boy. Sherlock shot upright, scrambling to his feet. As soon as he put pressure on his feet, the boy yelped and crumbled to the floor. "Jesus, what the-" John hurried to Sherlock's side, kneeling beside him and helping him to a sitting position. "Are you okay?" Sherlock nodded, wincing as he rubbed his feet.

"Y-Yes, just a bit sore." John nodded and reached for Sherlock's feet, tugging at the laces of his shoes out of habit. "W-What- what are you doing?"

"I can't tell you how many times I've had to patch up Harry's feet since she started dancing." John pulled the slippers off Sherlock's feet gently, taking care to not do more damage.

Sherlock's feet were covered in blisters and the skin was torn along the side of his big toe on his left foot. John sent a disapproving glare at the younger boy, who blushed and chewed his lip.

"You know, you really should bind your feet if you're going to practice that hard. You could really hurt yourself." Sherlock rolled his eyes, dropping back to the floor so he was lying down, hands covering his face.

"I'm aware of the damage that can occur. I simply forgot them at home and didn't have time to go back for them."

"Harry always keeps spares in her bag-" Sherlock shot upright, his face contorted in disgust."

"I refuse to wear someone else's foot bindings. That is disgusting!" John laughed, reaching for his own bag and digging out the first aid kit he kept in there. "Besides, Harriet's feet are several sizes smaller than mine, hers wouldn't fit me." John glanced at the foot that was still resting in his lap and nodded, Sherlock wasn't wrong.

"Speaking of Harry, where is she? Mum asked me to pick her up." Sherlock frowned at him, cocking his head to the side.

"Harriet left about an hour ago, said she was going to walk home." John blinked at Sherlock, shock and frustration filling his mind.

"Of course she did." He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands and shaking his head. Since John and Sherlock had met, Harry hadn't stopped bugging John about the boy.

There was no denying the fact that John was well on his way to developing a crush on Sherlock, and apparently Harry knew about it.

"Got to love siblings, eh?" John chuckled, trying to hide his blush as he continued tending to Sherlock's feet.

"If only." Sherlock mumbled, fussing with his t-shirt and glaring at the floor between them. "At least Harriet's being subtle about it. My brother wouldn't be so kind." Warning bells sounded in the back of John's mind, and he glanced up at Sherlock, his chest tightening as his eyes met the younger boy's.

"What uh- what's she being subtle about?" His voice shook slightly, and he prayed Sherlock wouldn't notice. He knew the answer, but he prayed Sherlock didn't.

A shocked and terrified expression passed over the other boy's face, and he hid his face in his hands, trying to tug his foot away from John's grip, but failing as he tightened his hand around the thin ankle.

"She uh- she-" Sherlock's face was covered in a dark blush as he looked around helplessly. "She wants us t-to da-date." John froze, blinking stupidly at the boy as Sherlock freed his ankle and pushed away from him, curling in on himself and dropping his head back against the wall.

John felt a flare of anger towards his little sister, how could she possibly think pushing him on this poor boy was a good idea?

"Sherlock, I-I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine. I tried to tell her you aren't gay, but she wouldn't listen-"

"Wait, what?" Sherlock flinched, and John realized how loud his voice was in the empty studio. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize, I get it. You're straight." John felt his heart break at the miserable tone Sherlock's voice had taken on and let himself look at the boy, really look at him, for the first time up close.

He was pale, and possibly too thin to be properly healthy, and his cheekbones stood out sharply, giving him an elvish appearance. He had long limbs and thick, dark curls framing his face.

He was gorgeous, and John found himself smiling at the thought of dating the boy.

"Well, I wouldn't say that." Sherlock's head sprang up almost comically and he stared at John with wide, shocked eyes, his lips parted slightly. "I mean, I'm seventeen. A bit early to be deciding something that important, no?" Sherlock seemed to be frozen, the only movement was the rapid blinking. "You alive over there?" Sherlock shook his head, snapping his jaw shut and blushing.

"S-So, if I were to- to ask you out?" John grinned, shuffling closer to the timid boy.

"Are you asking?" Sherlock nodded, his eyes wide as he looked at John. He looked so young, like a little boy asking his granny for sweets. John pushed himself to his feet, reaching for Sherlock. "Come on then Tiny Dancer, I'll drive you home." Sherlock smiled shyly and let John help him to his feet.

"So, is that a yes?" John laughed and leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to one of Sherlock's ridiculous cheekbones. "Oh." Sherlock gasped, pulling another laugh from John.

"Get your kit Dancing Queen."

"Are you going to persist with the ridiculous names?"

"Probably."

"Alright then." John laughed as he led his new boyfriend out of the studio, taking the hand of the timid boy and grinning up at him.

He was going to have to thank Harry when he got home. 


	2. A Memorable First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John takes Sherlock on their first date, he makes it one to remember.

John tugged nervously at his jacket sleeves, reaching up and pushing the doorbell. Sherlock's home was huge, and John couldn't help but feel slightly out of place standing on the front stoop.

It was his first date with Sherlock, three days after the boy had asked him out, and John was both nervous and excited. He had never taken another boy out before, much less someone as posh as Sherlock Holmes, and he didn't want to mess it up. Harry would probably kill him if he did.

The door swung open to reveal a kind-looking older lady, who grinned happily at John.

"Hello, I-I'm here for Sherlock-" The woman squealed gleefully at John and ushered him inside.

"Of course, you must be John! Oh, Sherlock has been so excited about tonight. Must have changed his shirt a thousand times." John blushed, smirking shyly. "And he certainly wasn't exaggerating about your good looks, was he?"

"Mrs. Hudson!" John flinched and looked up the stairs, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes landed on his date.

Sherlock was wearing a dark purple dress shirt and tight black slacks, the fabric clinging to his thin frame perfectly. He wasn't wearing a tie, but looked no less posh for it. His face was tinted with a dark blush and he was glaring at the woman, who tutted with amusement before scurrying off, leaving the teens alone in the foyer.

"I must apologize about Mrs. Hudson, she keeps forgetting her place." Sherlock glared back at the lady, still clearly embarrassed. "Housekeepers should speak when spoken to!"

"I'm not your housekeeper, I'm your God Mother, Silly Goose." Sherlock blushed again, huffing in irritation before descending the rest of the steps to stand before John.

It was awkward for a moment, neither boy knowing what to say.

"You uh- you look amazing tonight." John mumbled, blushing as he noticed Sherlock's own cheeks darkening at the compliment.

"S-So do you." Sherlock stared at the floor between them, shuffling his feet and fussing with the sleeves of his shirt.

"We should go, I uh- I made reservations at Angelo's-"

"Right, sorry." Sherlock mumbled, reaching for a long, black coat and grey-blue scarf before reaching past John to open the door.

John's heart jumped into his throat when he felt Sherlock's breath ghosting over his cheek and neck, and he fought the urge to kiss the boy. The fresh scent of lilac and sandalwood filled his nostrils and he caught sight of Sherlock's cheeks darkening again.

"It's uh- it's fine." John mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and smirking when Sherlock pulled away.

They left Sherlock's house, John opening the door of his mother's car for his date before climbing in the driver's seat.

 

When they arrived at the restaurant, the owner, an overly-friendly man named Angelo, gushed over the teens, even placing candles between them.

 

As the minutes passed, John became very aware of the fact that Sherlock was clearly not enjoying himself. The boy kept fidgeting in his seat and looked bored before the meal even arrived.

John's chest tightened in panic at the thought that he was boring the beautiful boy, and glanced around the restaurant, not seeing the owner. He reached across the table and grabbed Sherlock's hand, smirking mischievously at the confused boy.

"Hey, do you want to get out of here? I'm bored, and this place is stuffier than I thought." Sherlock's brow furrowed in confusion, but he nodded timidly. "Great, meet me outside, I'll settle the bill." Sherlock blinked for a moment before standing and grabbing for his coat and scarf.

John waited until Sherlock was outside before glancing around the room once more, still not seeing the owner. He grabbed his own jacket and stood, waiting until the only waitress was out of his way before bolting for the door.

He stumbled out onto the sidewalk, nearly colliding with Sherlock in his rush.

"John? What-" John gripped Sherlock's hand and grinned up at him, adrenaline flooding his veins.

"Run!" He laughed, tugging Sherlock's hand and racing away from the restaurant, the tall dancer in tow.

 

They ran through the streets of London, giggling like children and never releasing one another's hand.

 

They eventually stopped running when they reached an abandoned park, coming to rest under a large tree.

"What- what was that about?" Sherlock asked breathlessly, still grinning widely. John leaned against the tree, trying to calm his racing heart and laughed the adrenaline still racing through his veins.

"You looked bored, and I didn't want to disappoint you." John blushed, staring at the grass between his feet and kicking at the ground anxiously.

"I-I'm sorry." Sherlock mumbled, his voice soft and shaky. John looked up to find the boy glaring miserably at something in the distance.

"Why are you sorry? I'm the one that planned a boring date."

"The date was not boring John. I just tend to shut down when I get anxious. It's a defense mechanism." John watched the boy for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Sherlock Bloody Holmes was his date.

He pushed off the tree, pulling his jacket off and hanging it on a low branch. Sherlock watched him curiously, remaining almost completely still as John pushed his shirt sleeves up and unbuttoned his collar.

"Well, the night's not over yet, let me make it up to you."

"You have nothing to make up for-"

"Uh-uh, no objections. Our first date is going to be the most memorable date you will ever go on, Tiny Dancer." Sherlock rolled his eyes and started removing his own coat and scarf, hanging them on the branch next to John's.

"Why do you call me that?" John smirked, shrugging and pulling out his cell phone, pulling up his music and selecting the song he had been thinking about since he met Sherlock.

"The song is about a ballerina, you're a ballerina, I like the song, and I like you." Sherlock blushed, smiling shyly at John. "Dance with me?" John asked, reaching out to Sherlock with a grin. "I'm no where near as good as you, but my dad taught me a few things before he bailed." Sherlock timidly took his hand, and John heard the taller boy gasp softly as he pulled him close and started swaying to the music.

When the chorus started, John sang along, slightly off key, and a touch too loud, but it made Sherlock giggle so he kept going. By the time the chorus ended, Sherlock was laughing loudly and shaking his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

John stopped singing, suddenly overwhelmed with the thought that Sherlock was there, dancing with him, beneath the stars. The beautiful dancer he had been crushing on was laughing and grinning because of him, and John was certain he had never seen a more stunning sight.

"What?" John blushed as he realized that he had stopped moving and was staring at Sherlock, who was now blushing and chewing on his bottom lip self-consciously. "I-Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. I just can't get over how gorgeous you are." John stated truthfully, his heart racing as Sherlock's cheeks darkened further. "Can I- can I kiss you?" He whispered, smiling softly as Sherlock seemed to tense against him. "You can say no, that's fine-" His words were cut short by a timid press of lips against his own. It only lasted a moment, but it was sweet and perfect.

"S-Sorry, I-I- I don't- I'm not good at this." John smiled softly and leaned up, kissing the timid boy again, this one lasting a little longer, but still soft.

"Stop apologizing, I'm not that good at this either."

"At least you've done this before." John laughed, shrugging and leaning up for another light kiss. It wasn't untrue, John had a few girlfriends in his past, but none of them had gone past the first few dates.

John restarted his music and they danced some more, talking softly and stealing sweet kisses in the moonlight.

 

 

When John finally dropped Sherlock off at his home, it was nearly one O'clock in the morning, and the younger boy looked as though he was going to pass out in the passenger's seat.

"Goodnight Tiny Dancer. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight John. Thank you for an amazing night." 


	3. On The Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friend of John's is a friend of the team's.

"Hey Watson, do you know who that kid is under the bleachers? He's been there since practice started." Greg asked, nodding over to the bleachers. John couldn't help grinning when he caught sight of the boy hiding under the stands.

"Yeah, that's Sherlock." He waved at his boyfriend, who timidly waved back. "Hang on, I'm going to see if I can get him to come meet you all." John dropped his towel on the bench next to his friend and jogged across the field, coming to a stop before the bleachers and placing his hands on his hips. "Hey."

"Hi." Sherlock sounded almost embarrassed, and John grinned.

"You going to come out and give me a kiss?"

"No." The grin faded from John's lips slightly and he crossed his arms, hoping the hurt didn't show on his face.

"Why not?" He barely caught Sherlock's reluctant mumble and stepped closer. "What's wrong?"

"I'm stuck." John let out a belt of laughter, quickly covering his mouth and dropping his head, trying to contain his amusement. "Well, I'm definitely not kissing you now." That only made John laugh harder, and he clutched his sides as he doubled over. "I'm glad my struggles are amusing to you."

"Sorry, I'm sorry Sherlock. Here, I'll come under there and help you, okay?" John made his way under the bleachers, finally getting his laughter under control.

When he arrived at Sherlock's side, he noticed that the boy wasn't stuck, and looked scared and embarrassed.

"You don't look stuck."

"No, I uh- I had a plan." John laughed, reaching out and fixing the boy's scarf, which had gotten twisted around itself.

"And what was your plan?"

"Trick you into coming under here then kiss you." John felt his chest swell as Sherlock's cheeks darkened and he fussed with his coat collar.

"Well, you got me under here, and I'm still waiting for my kiss." Sherlock rolled his eyes but leaned down, pressing his lips timidly against John's.

Even though they had been dating for nearly a week, Sherlock was still incredibly shy when it came to most physical contact, and John normally didn't push him, but today his adrenaline was still high from the practice, and Sherlock looked good in his baggy t-shirt and tight jeans.

John leaned into the kiss, placing his hands of his boyfriend's hips and pressing him back against one of the support beams. Sherlock whimpered and clung to John's shoulders as he snogged the taller boy senseless.

"Hey Watson!" John jolted away from Sherlock when Greg's voice came from behind him. "Stop snogging your boyfriend and get out here! We want to meet this mystery boy!"

"Sod off Greg!" John laughed, turning back to face his boyfriend, his heart sinking as he saw the fear in the younger boy's face. "What's wrong?"

"I-I should go."

"Hey, wait a second, you heard Greg, everyone wants to meet you."

"They've met me John, last year when they beat me in the locker room." John felt his heart break at the terrified expression on his boyfriend's face and reached for his hand, pulling him close and cupping his cheek.

"They won't hurt you anymore, okay? If they do, I'll kick their arses into next year." Sherlock still looked scared, but timidly nodded his head, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. "Come on then Tiny Dancer, I want to show everyone I have the most gorgeous boyfriend in the whole school." Sherlock blushed, and John leaned up to give him one last kiss before leading the taller boy out from under the bleachers.

Greg was instantly by their side, scanning his eyes over Sherlock skeptically for a moment before John saw the recognition set in. John could feel the tension pouring off his boyfriend, and saw the shame forming on Greg's face.

"Greg, this is my boyfriend, Sherlock." John wrapped an arm around Sherlock's waist and pulled him close, wanting to comfort the boy.

"Hey, yeah, I remember you, you're uh, you're Mycroft's little brother, right?" John gaped up at Sherlock, wondering how he had failed to make the connection.

Mycroft had been the focus of Greg's attention for most of last year, and John had been the only one that knew.

Sherlock blushed, frowning slightly as though the question shocked him.

"Y-Yes, how did you know that?" Greg's cheeks darkened and he rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously.

"I was his chemistry partner last year. I haven't seen him around this semester, where is he?"

"He is attending college now, finished his classes over summer break." John could see the disappointment in his friend's face, and made a mental note to ask Sherlock about Mycroft later. Greg shrugged, grinning half-heartedly before starting to step away.

"Oh well, say hi to him for me, will you? Come on, the team wants to meet you." Greg jogged away, calling for the team.

John led Sherlock over to where his team had gathered, introducing Sherlock to the boys, all while keeping a protective arm around the boy's thin waist.

The team members that had bullied Sherlock apologized profusely, sending looks John's way that bordered on terrified, and for good reason. John was fully intending on making them pay for hurting Sherlock.

Too soon, Sherlock had to leave, his own practice about to start.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" John asked as he walked his boyfriend off the field, ignoring the whistles and laughter of his teammates.

"Most likely. I don't have access to the studio after school, so I may come and watch your practice." John grinned, spinning Sherlock to face him and leaning up, pressing a kiss to his lips, making the taller boy blush.

"Sounds good, Tiny Dancer." Sherlock smiled shyly, glancing back at the team timidly. "They like you, trust me." John whispered, sensing the boy's anxiety starting to rise again. Sherlock chewed on his lip and nodded, still looking nervous. John reached up and pulled Sherlock down for a kiss, his cheeks burning slightly when he heard the pleased sound Sherlock made at the contact. He broke the kiss reluctantly, grinning up at his shy boyfriend. "I'll see you tomorrow Tiny Dancer." He whispered, his heart racing at the flustered expression on Sherlock's face as he pulled away.

"Yes, yes tomorrow then. Good." John laughed as Sherlock nodded, turning to leave. John let his eyes wander down to Sherlock's arse, feeling his cheeks burn slightly.

"Yep, very good."

 

 

 

"Hey! Holmes!" Sherlock flinched at the voice that came from behind him, glancing around for an escape route. A rough hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around, shoving him back against the lockers. "Are you ignoring me again Holmes?" Sherlock shook his head, chewing on his lip nervously and clutching his books tight against his chest.

Anderson had been bullying Sherlock for most of his high school career, so this was nothing new. Sherlock lowered his head and closed his eyes, trying to will the other boy away.

"You going to cry again Pouf? Going to cry like a fucking girl?"

"What's going on here?" A vaguely familiar voice startled Anderson, who backed away and spun, revealing a few of the Rugby players, led by John's friend Gavin.  _Or was it George?_ "You okay Sherlock?" Geoffrey asked, keeping his eyes on Anderson. Sherlock nodded, the panic in his chest slowly dissipating as he realized that the team was defending him, not attacking him.

"Seriously? You guys are sticking up for this freak?" Sherlock felt tears welling in his eyes at the harsh words.

"Get fucked Anderson." Gavin snapped, gripping Sherlock's elbow and hauling him closer, stepping in front of him and challenging Anderson. "Sherlock Holmes is a friend of ours, and if anyone so much as looks at him wrong, they'll have us to answer to. Got it?" Anderson growled but nodded, glaring at Sherlock as he stormed away. "Mikey, make sure Sherlock gets to class okay." Sherlock flinched when he felt a hand grip his shoulder, but let himself be led down the hall.

They stopped before the classroom, Sherlock turning to face the boy that had escorted him to class. He was short, shorter even than John, with a round face and stocky features.

"Thank you." Sherlock mumbled, blushing lightly as the boy grinned, shrugging and pushing his hands into his pockets.

"John really seems to like you, and when one of our brothers cares about someone, then we all care about that person." Sherlock blushed, chewing on his lip and staring at the ground. He jumped when a hand ruffled his hair, followed shortly by a cheerful laugh. "Welcome to the family Kid." Sherlock watched as Mikey walked away, a warmth swelling in his chest as John's words echoed in his mind.

_They like you, trust me._

 

 

After class, one of the rugby players met Sherlock at the door and walked with him to his next class.

 

By the end of the day, the whole school was talking about how the dancing freak was being protected by the Rugby team.

Sherlock met John at Rugby practice, setting aside the overwhelming fear of being rejected to pull his boyfriend in for a tight hug.

"Hey, are you alright? I heard what happened with Anderson." John pulled back and cupped Sherlock's cheek, sending fire along his spine. "He didn't hurt you, did he? Because if he did, I'll fucking kill him." Sherlock shook his head, glancing over at the rest of the team and smiling as Mikey waved at him. John followed his gaze and Sherlock felt his pulse race as a pleased grin pulled at the shorter boy's lips. "I told you they like you." He whispered, pulling Sherlock down for a soft kiss before hurrying off to start practice.

The players all greeted Sherlock as the practice wore on, asking if he was okay, and offering him water.

For the first time in years, Sherlock felt as though he belonged. 


	4. Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock goes away for a tournament, and finds he doesn't like being away from John.

I miss you – JW

Sherlock blushed and tried to hide the smile that pulled at his lips. He slouched further down in the uncomfortable seat of the train and re-read the text, his chest tight with a strange mix of pain and happiness.

He was with the senior dancers in his troupe, on their way to a competition in Glasgow.

Everyone is wishing you luck btw – JW

Greg says, 'Break a leg.' – JW

I miss you too – SH

Tell them though I don't believe in luck, thanks for the sentiment – SH

When will you be back? – JW

Not until late Thursday – SH

We will be arriving in about 2 hrs and then we have performances all day Wednesday – SH

Then a museum tour Thursday morning before we leave – SH

That's too long – JW

I couldn't agree more – SH

Museums are boring – SH

I would rather spend my day watching you practice tbh – SH

Sherlock felt his cheeks burn as he sent the last message, suddenly very glad he was sitting alone.

Really? – JW

I would have thought you would find it boring – JW

Definitely not boring – SH

But you hate Rugby – JW

I do – SH

But I don't watch because I have an interest in the sport itself – SH

There was something about talking over text that made Sherlock less shy. He knew that John enjoyed it when he shared his thoughts, but could never seem to bring himself to say them out loud.

Then why do you watch? – JW

Sherlock rolled his eyes, certain that John was simply trying to get him to admit that he enjoyed seeing him playing.

I don't know – SH

But I think it may have something to do with seeing my bf in tight shorts – SH

There was a long pause, and Sherlock quickly began to regret sending the message.

Sorry – SH

Too soon? – SH

Sherlock drew his knees up to his chest, trying to keep his breathing steady. They had only been dating for a little over a month, and Sherlock had no reference as to how fast things were supposed to go. He was on the verge of a panic attack when his phone buzzed.

Sorry, Mum wanted me to take out the trash – JW

Definitely not too soon – JW

God, I wish you were here – JW

Sherlock blushed again, his heart aching as he re-read the message.

What would we be doing if I were there? – SH

I would tell you, but Mum is home and I would really rather not have her barge in on that conversation – JW

If you know what I mean – JW

– JW

Sherlock felt his cheeks burn and he shifted in his seat, his mind supplying an image of John that he really shouldn't be thinking about when there were people around.

You should Skype me when you get to the hotel – JW

I want to see my Tiny Dancer – JW

I will – SH

Great! I gtg, have to charge my phone and finish some chores. Ttyl – JW

I miss you <3 – JW

I miss you too – SH

 

 

"So, you like watching me play?" Sherlock's cheeks darkened and he glanced at the door to his room, praying the student he was bunking with wouldn't be returning anytime soon.

He had bailed on dinner and swimming with the group in favor of Skyping John, hoping he would get a bit of privacy.

He had never been more thankful for his logical mind than he was now.

John had decided to wear nothing more than his pajama bottoms, and was currently bustling about his room, organizing his Rugby kit and bookbag.

"Y-Yes." John glanced back at the computer, the smirk on his face making Sherlock's ear burn.

"Good to know I'm not the only one."

"You like watching yourself play?" John laughed and settled into the chair in front of the screen, shaking his head and blushing lightly.

"No, Silly Git." He said fondly, running a hand through his hair and grinning. "I mean, I like watching you dance." Sherlock blushed again and shifted against the headboard, not missing the way John's eyes darkened at his reaction.

"I-I don't- why?"

"Because it's amazing, and gorgeous, and fucking hot." Sherlock chocked on his breath, covering his mouth with his hand and knocking his computer off his lap as he lapsed into a coughing fit. "Hey, you okay? Sherlock? What's wrong?"

"Sorry-" Sherlock hurried to fix his laptop as he finally cleared his airway. "Sorry, I'm alright." John looked concerned, chewing on his bottom lip and rubbing at the back of his neck anxiously. "I just- I didn't expect that." Sherlock blushed as John smirked and leaned closer, glancing at what Sherlock assumed was his bedroom door briefly.

"I can't help it, the way you move is just- there are no words." Sherlock blushed darker, and felt his mind start to close, his brain going into overdrive at the thought of his dancing arousing John. "Hey, stay with me Babe." Sherlock blinked and forced his eyes to meet John's, digging his nails into his palms to keep himself from disassociating. "There you are. You okay babe?" Sherlock nodded, chewing on his bottom lip and shifting uncomfortably.

"I-I'm sorry." He mumbled, cursing the fact that he couldn't discuss such things without freaking out. He hid his face in his hands and fought the tears that tried to fight their way to the surface.

"Hey, don't be sorry Babe. It's all fine. We can talk about it more when you get back, alright?" Sherlock nodded, still hiding his face. "Sherlock? Look at me Babe, please?" He uncovered his eyes and looked at the screen, unable to fight the smile that started forming when he met John's sleepy eyes. "There's my gorgeous boy." John whispered, fighting back a yawn. Sherlock glanced at the clock on the wall before smiling back at his boyfriend.

"You should get some sleep." John rubbed his eyes, groaning and shaking his head.

"No, I'm alright. I want to talk to you."

"You have school in the morning."

"So?"

"John."

"Fine." John sighed dramatically, sitting back and stretching, sending fire through Sherlock's body. "What time are you dancing tomorrow?"

"I'm not on until three."

"Alright, I'll text you before then." Sherlock nodded, feeling his chest tighten at the thought of not being able to kiss John goodnight. "Goodnight Tiny Dancer." Sherlock smiled, like he always did when John called him that, and chewed on his lip.

"Goodnight John."

 

 

 

Hey Tiny Dancer! – JW

I know you're going on soon, just wanted to say I miss you, and I know you're going to do amazing! – JW

I'll ttyl – JW

Sherlock smiled at the messages, feeling his confidence rise slightly. John was by far his biggest supporter, and even though he couldn't be there, it still warmed Sherlock's heart that he cared enough to text.

"Next on the stage, Sherlock Holmes, dancing to 'Mad World' by Gary Jules." Sherlock took a steadying breath and made his way on stage, the knowledge that John was so far away adding to the emotion of his performance.

 

When the song ended and Sherlock had made his way off-stage, the rest of his troupe gathering around him and chattering excitedly. They all insisted that he had won the competition for the team, and as happy as he was with the dance, he found himself faking smiles.

He wanted John to be there, and knowing that he wasn't was making it hard to enjoy himself.

 

He finally escaped the small crowd and made his way to the dressing room. He needed some water and to check his phone.

He leaned against the door, sighing heavily and blinking back the unwanted tears. He wouldn't cry, not when there were so many people that could catch him.

 

A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts, and he straightened himself out, pulling open the door.

He was greeted with the excited faces of John's Rugby team.

"Hey!" The team poured into the room, each boy handing Sherlock a yellow rose and offering him words of praise. Sherlock stood stock still, his body flooded with shock and disbelief as one by one, the entire team entered the room.

"I-I don't-"

"Hey Tiny Dancer." Sherlock felt his pulse stutter as the last boy, the one he wanted to see the most, stopped before him, a wide grin on his face.

"J-John?" Sherlock wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, burying his face against John's neck and sighing.

"Hey Gorgeous. You were amazing out there, just like I said you would be." The team cheered in agreement, earning a chuckle from John. Sherlock hid his face further in John's jumper, embarrassment and confusion coloring his cheeks.

"How?" Sherlock mumbled against John's neck, still trying to understand what was happening.

"Give me a kiss, and I'll tell you." Sherlock pulled back and pressed a soft kiss to his boyfriend's lips, blushing when the team whistled. "I wanted to see you dance. I asked Mikey to borrow his car, then his dad wound up lending us his van, so everyone came." The team filled the room with boos and laughter, making John blush and confusing Sherlock more.

"Watson has been going on about your dancing for days, and how much he missed you and wished he could be here, so we made up a class trip and brought him here." Mikey said, clapping a hand on each of their shoulders, grinning up at Sherlock. "Seriously though Mate, that was amazing." Sherlock blushed and smiled, glancing around at his new friends. "We'll give you two a minute." Mikey ushered everyone out, winking at the pair before shutting the door and leaving John and Sherlock alone.

Sherlock closed the gap instantly, pressing a firm, deep kiss to his boyfriend's mouth, his body burning at the shocked sound that escaped John's throat.

Firm hands gripped his hips and spun him, pressing him back against the door, pulling a gasp from him.

"Christ, I've missed you." John's voice was soft and slightly pained and suddenly, Sherlock felt the stress of competing and being without John land on his shoulders and he let the tears fall. He dropped his head against his boyfriend's shoulder and clung to him, softly crying into his jumper. "Hey, what's wrong babe? What happened?" Sherlock sniffled, pulling back slightly and kissing John again, softer this time.

"Nothing happened John. I'm just tired, and I missed you, and I just want to go home." John kissed him sweetly, cupping his cheek tenderly and smiling up at him.

"I know babe, I missed you too. But hey, how about I pick you up tomorrow when you get back and we'll go get milkshakes or something? Sound good?" Sherlock smiled sadly and nodded, kissing his boyfriend again. "Oh, I almost forgot!" John reached for something in his back pocket, revealing a bouquet of something that resembled balls of aluminium foil. "Chocolate roses. I know you aren't really a fan of actual flowers, and I know how much you love chocolate." Sherlock blushed and took the sweets, grinning at the shorter boy.

"I have the best boyfriend ever."

"Yes you do. Aren't you lucky?" John laughed, kissing Sherlock once more before the air was filled with the announcer's voice, telling all the dancers to report to the stage for Awards.

 

Sherlock won the first place trophy for his troupe, the rugby team and his boyfriend cheering him on from the front row.

 

 


	5. I'm Ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock contemplates taking their relationship to the next level.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT WARNING!!! Awkward first time for the boys

Something was wrong, John could practically feel the tension pouring off his boyfriend as they sat across from each other in the small café.

Sherlock had been back from the competition for over a week, and had yet to bring up what they had texted about, and he had completely steered away from their Skype conversation. John could feel a nagging worry in the back of his mind, maybe he had pushed the timid boy too far.

"You want sex." John choked on his drink at Sherlock's words, coughing violently and blushing. He finally managed to clear his airway, glancing around the nearly empty café before turning back to his boyfriend.

Sherlock's cheeks were dark and he was avoiding John's gaze, obsessively ripping a piece of paper into tiny, precise pieces.

"Babe-"

"I-I mean, I'm not- I'm not saying I-I'm against it-"

"Babe-"

"-Because I-I'm definitely not- I-I mean- I've th-thought about i-it-" Alarm spiked through John when he noticed Sherlock's breathing become erratic and he reached across the table, taking his boyfriend's hand.

"Sherlock!" The boy stopped talking, freezing almost entirely as he blinked down at John's hand. "Hey, Sherlock, look at me Babe." Sherlock shook his head, his cheeks darkening further. John rose from his seat, dragging it around the table and setting it next to Sherlock, sitting beside the anxious boy and cupping his jaw gently. "Please Sherlock?" The boy shook his head again, and John leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Sherlock's lips.

He smiled against Sherlock's lips when he felt the boy sigh into the kiss.

"There's my Tiny Dancer." John whispered, brushing an errant curl out of Sherlock's eyes. "Now, what's going on?" Sherlock shrugged, reaching up to play with the collar of John's Rugby jacket. "Come on, something is stressing you out. What is it?"

"Y-You want sex." John blushed, shrugging and grabbing Sherlock's hand, pulling it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the knuckles.

"Do you?" Sherlock blushed, nodding slightly. "Okay, so what's freaking you out so much?"

"I-I read that it- th-there are things- I-I just-" Sherlock sighed shakily, and John leaned in to kiss the boy again, feeling how tense his boyfriend was. "I-I don't want to do something wrong." John kissed Sherlock again before pulling the lanky boy in for a hug.

"How about, we don't worry about it right now? There's no need to rush anything. It will happen when we are both good and ready. Okay?" He felt Sherlock nod against his shoulder and turned his head, pressing a gentle kiss to the boy's temple. "Alright then Tiny Dancer, let's get going, yeah? We both have practice to get to."

 

 

 

Hey Tiny Dancer – JW

Guess what? – JW

 

You miss me? – SH

 

Well, yea, obviously – JW

But other than that – JW

 

I have no idea – SH

 

Mum is going out of town for a few days this weekend, and Harry is staying at her gf's house – JW

Wanna come over? – JW

We can binge Doctor Who or something – JW

 

Sherlock set his phone on the desk in front of him, leaning back in his chair and chewing the side of one of his fingers.

It had been just over a week since they had agreed to take things slow, and the prospect of being alone with John for a whole weekend made Sherlock slightly overwhelmed.

It wasn't that he didn't want to be with John, his mind's constant imagining what it would be like assured him that he definitely wanted to. But the stories and information he had found online gave him pause. There was a lot that could go wrong with anal sex, especially for minors.

 

No pressure or anything – JW

Just thought I'd ask – JW

 

No pressure? – SH

 

None at all. You can even sleep in a different room if you want – JW

 

Sherlock chewed at his bottom lip again before typing out his response.

 

Alright – SH

I'll come over – SH

 

 

 

"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock called from under his blankets, his chest unpleasantly tight. He was due at John's in an hour, but he couldn't bring himself to leave his bed.

"Yes Dear?"

"Call John, tell him I can't make it." Sherlock blinked away tears of guilt and shame at the thought of bailing on his boyfriend.

"What's wrong Sherlock? You were so excited-"

"Well I'm not now!" Sherlock snapped, burrowing further under the blankets and sniffling.

The comforter was suddenly ripped off him, pulling a shocked yelp from him as he scrambled into a sitting position. Mrs. Hudson was standing beside the bed, her arms crossed and an understanding smile on her face.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock blushed, shrugging and fussing with the edge of his pillow. "John's mum is out of town, isn't she?" Sherlock felt his cheeks darken and he turned further away from his Godmother, not wanting to have this discussion with her. "Have you two-?" Sherlock pulled his knees to his chest and shook his head, embarrassment filling his body.

He felt the bed shift slightly and let the older woman pull him in for a hug.

"Have you told John how scared you are?" Sherlock nodded, digging his nails into his palms. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Sherlock."

"I know, he's not forcing me into anything. I'm just- I'm scared. I read that it hurts-" Mrs. Hudson cradled his head and pressed a sweet kiss to his temple.

"Stay here Dearie, I'll be right back." Mrs. Hudson left, leaving Sherlock alone for a few minutes before returning with a small black bag.

She sat next to Sherlock and handed him the bag.

"It will hurt, I'm not going to deny that, but if you go slowly, and use extra lubricant, it can feel very good." Sherlock blushed furiously as he peaked in the bag, quickly closing it. "Take the pain killers just after. They will help with the ache." Sherlock nodded, taking a steadying breath and leaning against the older woman, never more appreciative of her presence in his life. "And just remember Dear, sex does not equal love. You need to be sure about what you have with John before you do anything physical." Sherlock nodded, his anxiety starting to fade as he thought about John, the Rugby captain that seemed so enthralled with him.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."

"You're welcome Dearie. Would you like a ride?" Sherlock nodded and stood, shoving the bag of supplies into the duffel he had packed, and reaching for his jacket.

 

 

John answered the door in his pajama trousers, a towel around his neck and water still dripping down his hair. Sherlock swallowed thickly, forcing his eyes to stay trained on John's grinning face and trying his hardest to smile back.

"Hey Babe! Come on in, I'll be finished two shakes." John led Sherlock in, clearly not the slightest bit self-conscious about his state of undress. "Just toss your stuff anywhere." Sherlock stood in the middle of the kitchen, shifting awkwardly on his feet as John disappeared into the bathroom.

He stayed there, unmoving, until John came back, his hair no longer dripping and his chest covered by a ratty old t-shirt. He grinned up at Sherlock, who blushed and returned the smile timidly.

"Take your coat off, stay a while." John quipped, taking Sherlock's bag from him and setting it on one of the chairs before gripping his hips and pulling him close. "Hey Tiny Dancer." He whispered, leaning up and catching Sherlock's lips in a soft kiss.

"Hmm, you smell good." Sherlock mumbled, nuzzling into the crook of his boyfriend's neck and sighing contentedly. John always smelled good, even after a long practice when he really shouldn't. He felt John chuckle against him and wrap his arms around his waist.

"So do you." John pressed a kiss to his temple and pulled back slightly, smiling fondly. "So, what do you want to watch tonight? I downloaded Doctor Who and Game of Thrones, as well as that Supernatural show I keep hearing about, so you have lots to chose from." Sherlock smiled, because of course John would go above and beyond to make him happy, and leaned down, pressing a firm kiss to his boyfriend's lips.

John let out a sound of surprise, but returned the kiss enthusiastically, gripping Sherlock's hips tightly. Sherlock gasped and clung to the shorter boy's shoulders when John pushed him back, sending them both stumbling against the wall.

This was, by far, not the first time John had pressed Sherlock against a hard surface and snogged him until he couldn't see clearly, but this time felt different.

He whimpered when John licked into his mouth, his mind going offline as their tongues met.

John broke the kiss after a few moments, keeping Sherlock pinned to the wall with a hand on his chest.

"J-John-"

"Yeah, hold on a second Babe, I uh, I need a minute." Sherlock glanced down and blushed. John was still wearing his pajama trousers, and the evidence of how the kiss had affected him was tenting the front of his trousers. "Sorry, guess I got a little carried away there." John laughed breathlessly, his cheeks darkening as he started pulling away from Sherlock.

"I-It's fine." Sherlock mumbled, forcing his eyes to stay above John's waist. He still wasn't sure if he was ready, and he didn't want to give John any mixed signals. "I-It's my fault, really-" John silenced him with a soft kiss, smiling fondly when he pulled away.

"Not your fault. You can't help how my body reacts to you." John winked at him before stepping back raising his hands and grinning boyishly. "No pressure, remember? I'm going to let you choose when. Come on Tiny Dancer, we've got shows to binge."

 

 

Sherlock tried to watch the show, he honestly did, but he could only focus for a few minutes at a time. The Doctor would say something witty, making John laugh and sending Sherlock's head spinning wildly.

Then, John's arm draped over Sherlock's shoulder, and he abandoned all hope of knowing what was happening to The Doctor and his companion. He slouched further into the sofa and curled against John's side, feigning interest in the show as he listened to John's heartbeat.

"So uh, I had Mum dig out the air mattress, just in case." John's voice was slightly shaky, and Sherlock heard the change in his heartbeat. He glanced up at his boyfriend and noticed the blush on his cheeks. "I-I'm not saying that if we don't- y-you know, that you have to sleep on the air mattress. I-I just didn't know if you wanted to share a bed or if you'd rather sleep alone." John looked down at him and offered him a nervous smile. "No pressure."

Sherlock watched John for a moment, his mind jumping between thoughts faster than he had ever known it to.

_It's going to hurt._

_He wouldn't hurt me._

_You're going to regret it._

_Having regrets means you've lived an interesting life._

_That's stupid._

_Maybe I want to be stupid._

Sherlock surged up and kissed John, the angle a little weird, so he mostly got his lower lip, but it was a start. John made a soft sound, one of his hands cupping Sherlock's jaw as he adjusted the angle. Their mouths slotted together perfectly and Sherlock whimpered, clinging to the front of his boyfriend's shirt and trying not to tremble.

Sherlock parted his lips and sighed as he felt John's tongue slip into his mouth. He gasped and shuddered when John threaded his fingers in his hair, not tugging, simply cradling his head as he sucked on Sherlock's bottom lip, pulling another helpless whimper from the boy.

John broke the kiss, breathing heavily and flushed. Sherlock whined and tried to close the gap again, but John kept him just out of reach.

"Sherlock-"

"Please John, I-I want to." Sherlock whispered, nuzzling into John's hand. He glanced up and met John's eyes, reading the concern there. "I-I want you."

"I don't want to hurt you." John whispered, his voice so soft and unsure it made Sherlock's heart swell. He leaned in again, this time John let him, and kissed his boyfriend, soft and sweet.

"You won't." Not the whole truth, Sherlock knew logically that there was no way to escape the pain, but he also knew that John would do everything in his power to ensure Sherlock enjoyed himself. "I trust you." Sherlock kissed John again, gently coaxing him out of his mind. He needed John to be confident if this was going to work.

John finally gave in, deepening the kiss and shifting closer to Sherlock, pressing him back against the cushions. Sherlock gasped when John broke the kiss, moving his lips down to kiss and suck at his neck.

John guided Sherlock so he was lying on his back, slipping one of his hands under the hem of Sherlock's t-shirt, making him tremble.

John hesitated, tugging at the hem of Sherlock's shirt for a moment. Sherlock nodded, letting John pull the shirt up and over his head. He fought back the urge to cover himself, feeling a deep blush rising over his chest and neck.

John made quick work of his own shirt as well, throwing the clothes in the general direction of his bedroom before scanning his eyes over Sherlock's now-bare chest.

"Fuck, Sherlock. You're beautiful." John whispered, the hunger in his voice and eyes sending fire sparking through Sherlock's body.

Sherlock shook his head, frowning slightly. He wasn't beautiful. He was lanky, bony, too pale and way too thin. His bones stuck out at odd angles, enhanced by weird, wiry muscles.

John was beautiful. Tan skin, firm muscles and no harsh lines.

A hint of sadness flashed in John's eyes, but quickly faded as he shifted, moving Sherlock's legs apart so he could sit between them.

"Have you-" Sherlock tried to ask, but John leaned forward just as he started speaking and gently sucked on one of his nipples, sending his thoughts flying away with a shocked sound. "J-John-" He felt the older boy chuckle against him.

"Good?" Sherlock could only nod, clenching his fingers tightly at his sides. He had no idea what to do with his hands.

John's lips pressed against his own and he felt himself relaxing almost instantly, sighing into the kiss as John traced his sides softly.

"Breathe Love, you need to breathe." John whispered, placing soft kisses over Sherlock's face and neck.

"S-Sorry-" Sherlock mumbled, blushing as John pulled back slightly and smiled down at him.

"Don't be sorry Babe, just remember to breathe, yeah?" Sherlock nodded, biting his lip anxiously. "You know, you can touch me if you want." Sherlock's hands twitched and he blinked up at John, feeling lost and helpless. "What's wrong?"

"I-I don't know w-what to do." Sherlock mumbled, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He felt John take one of his hands and place it on his side. The contact sent a thrill through Sherlock and he moved his fingers so they lined up with John's ribs.

"Just do what feels right Love. I'll tell you if I don't like something." John didn't give him the chance to respond before he lowered his lips to catch Sherlock's in a kiss that made him dizzy with arousal and lack of oxygen.

Sherlock let his hands wander timidly, ghosting them over John's sides and back before wandering into his hair. The soft sounds John had started making as Sherlock touched him, told him that his actions were appreciated.

 

Sherlock had lost track of how long they stayed like that, hands wandering and stealing passionate kisses, when John finally pulled away, sitting up and tugging Sherlock into a sitting position.

"Bedroom, now." John whispered breathlessly, pulling Sherlock to his feet, leading him down the hall.

It was a short journey, but Sherlock stumbled three times and very nearly ran into the door frame. His mind was spinning, making it difficult for him to focus on anything other than John's hands.

John stopped just before his bed, pulling Sherlock close and brushing his fingers along his cheekbones.

"What do you want Love?" John's voice was soft and wavered slightly, and it was then that Sherlock realized that he wasn't the only one that was nervous. Sherlock timidly cupped John's face with his hands, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his boyfriend's lips.

"You." He whispered against John's lips before biting gently on his bottom one. John chuckled, tightening his grip on Sherlock's hips.

"Yeah, I got that bit." Sherlock gasped as John rubbed their hips together. "I mean, do you want to- all the way? I'll uh- I'll have to go find lube or something-"

"I have condoms and lubricant." That seemed to shock John, and the shorter boy blinked up at him. Sherlock blushed and glanced down at his feet. "Mrs. Hudson was concerned about me." John snorted, dropping his head against Sherlock's chest and giggling.

"That must have been an uncomfortable conversation."

"Not really. Though it's a little unnerving to think that she just had-" John silenced him by gripping the back of his neck tightly and pulling him down for a deep kiss. Sherlock whimpered into the kiss, his hands coming to rest on John's hips and pulling him closer.

John pushed back against him until his knees hit the bed. Sherlock caught the hint and sat, still gripping John's hips so that the shorter boy now stood between his legs.

"I'll be right back." John whispered, pulling himself from Sherlock's grip and giving him a soft kiss before leaving.

He was back in less than a minute with Sherlock's bag.

"I'm assuming everything is in here?" Sherlock nodded, reaching for the duffel and digging out the little black bag. He set his duffel on the floor and handed John the bag, his nerves starting to return as it finally registered that this was happening. "Do you- I-I mean- top or bottom?" John's cheeks darkened and he chuckled nervously.

"Bottom." John nodded and pushed at Sherlock's collarbone gently, guiding him back so he was lying in the middle of the bed. John made quick work of their trousers and pants before stopping completely, staring down at Sherlock with a look that made him squirm. "H-Have you e-ever-" John shook his head, his cheeks dark and eyes unsure.

"Not with a boy, but I did some research and I'm pretty sure I know what to do." Sherlock nodded, doing his best to relax.

There was some movement at the end of the bed, but Sherlock kept his eyes trained on the ceiling.

He gasped and arched his back when he felt a wet heat engulfing his member. John pinned his hips to the bed with one strong hand as he worked, making soft noises that only served to make Sherlock's head spin with arousal.

A whimper escaped Sherlock's lips as he felt a cold, slick finger press against his entrance. John pulled off his erection with an obscene sound, sending a smirk up at Sherlock.

"Ready Tiny Dancer?" He didn't give Sherlock time to respond before pressing his finger into him, pulling a soft keen from his chest.

It didn't hurt, not as much as Sherlock had been anticipating, but it wasn't pleasant. His body tightened around John's finger, trying to push him out.

John worked him open slowly, taking care to stop when he noticed Sherlock's body tensing in pain or discomfort.

Sherlock was about to tell John that he was ready when John's fingers crooked up and brushed against the little bundle of nerves within him. His back arched sharply and his vision went white as a cry fell from his lips.

"Holy fuck." John whispered, and though Sherlock wasn't looking at him, he knew the boy's face was twisted in awe. Sherlock cried out again as John's fingers brushed his prostate once more, nearly sending him spiraling over the edge.

"J-John- n-no- pl-please d-don't-" Sherlock felt John pull his fingers out gently and shift so he was hovering over Sherlock's body. The emptiness was shocking, and Sherlock squirmed, lifting his hips and tugging on his hair. "John- John please-" Soft lips pressing against his caught his pleas and slowed his mind.

"Breathe Love, you need to breathe." John whispered, reaching for the black bag and pulling out one of the condoms. There was some more shuffling and the sound of a foil packet tearing open, but Sherlock once more kept his eyes trained on the ceiling.

His mind started screaming at him when he felt something press against his stretched entrance, and he clung to John's shoulders, whimpering softly.

"Ready Babe?" Sherlock nodded, clenching his eyes shut and trying to remember how to breathe.

His mind went offline as John started pressing in, moving almost painfully slow.

It was a slow process, and it hurt worse the deeper John got, but once he was fully seated and had given Sherlock time to adjust, it started to feel more enjoyable. It still wasn't the most comfortable thing, but it wasn't unbearable.

John started moving, small thrusts of his hips that sent a sense of discomfort through Sherlock's body. He loved being this connected to his boyfriend, but there was minimal stimulation and it just felt awkward.

Suddenly, the angle of John's thrusts changed, and Sherlock's back arched again as a cry was ripped from his lips.

"There we go." John whispered, focusing on that point as he moved his hips faster, keeping Sherlock right on the edge. "Fuck Sherlock- so gorgeous Babe."

Neither boy lasted very long, Sherlock finishing first, crying out John's name as he spilled between them. John groaned darkly as he filled the condom and collapsed on top of Sherlock.

"I-I love you." Sherlock's voice was soft and broken when he spoke, and he quickly covered his face, embarrassment filling him as he felt John tense above him.

"Sher-"

"Sorry, sorry, forget I said anything. I-I didn't mean it-" John stopped his words with a gentle kiss.

"I love you too, Tiny Dancer." Relief flooded Sherlock and he curled up against his boyfriend, his mind blissfully quiet, and a dull ache forming in his arse.

 

John's phone buzzed, and Sherlock reluctantly let his boyfriend up to grab it.

"What the- Harry!" John shouted, his cheeks dark.

"Next time make sure no one is home before you fuck your boyfriend, eh?" Sherlock's jaw dropped as he realized what John was so upset about. "I'm happy for you guys!"

"Fuck off Harry!" John threw a book at the far wall and pulled Sherlock close.

Despite the embarrassment of John's younger sister hearing them, both boys were asleep shortly, wrapped tightly in each other's arms.


	6. Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tries to help Sherlock practice his dance when his partner breaks their ankle.

"John! Stop distracting Sherlock! We have to practice!" John grinned, tearing his eyes away from his blushing boyfriend to glare at his little sister. Harry and Sherlock had been slotted to dance together again, so that meant that John had an excuse to watch them practice.

"Sod off Harry, I'm not talking to him. He's still dancing."

"Yeah, but you keep looking at him like he's the most appetizing thing you've ever seen."

"Maybe he is." John laughed as one of Harry's spare shoes came flying at his face. He easily dodged it and lunged for Sherlock, catching him around the waist and hauling him close, ignoring his yelp of shock.

"I love watching you dance." John growled in Sherlock's ear, placing a soft kiss just under the corner of his jaw, grinning when he heard the dancer's breath catch.

"J-John-"

"What? I can't help it. Not after-" Both boys froze at the sound of someone crumpling to the floor, accompanied by a sickening crunch. John released Sherlock when a scream split the air. "Harry!"

 

 

 

"Sherlock, you're overreacting-" John flinched when a shoe came flying at his head. His boyfriend spun to face him, a glare on his face that bordered on manic.

"Overreacting? John, my dance partner has a broken leg! The competition is in three weeks! I have no one to practice with, and this competition counts for over half of our final score-" John gripped Sherlock's wrists, prying his fingers out of his hair and pressing soft kisses to his knuckles.

John waited until Sherlock's breathing had evened out before shifting, sliding an arm under his legs and lifting him off his feet.

"John-"

"Don't argue with me, Tiny Dancer. You need to rest."

"I'm fine."

"Yeah? Well your feet say otherwise." Sherlock huffed, but stopped squirming, letting John carry him off the dance floor. "How about I get your feet sorted, then I'll dance Harry's part for you? Sound good?" Sherlock giggled reluctantly, shaking his head and burying his face in John's neck. "What? I can dance!" John put on his best affronted voice, making Sherlock giggle a little harder.

John set Sherlock down on the bench just outside the studio and set about cleaning and re-wrapping Sherlock's feet.

Once Sherlock was ready, John stood and pulled the taller boy to his feet.

"Come on then Tiny Dancer, teach me how to dance."

 

 

John turned out to be a horrible dancer, he fell several times, and kept missing steps or landing on Sherlock's feet.

It should have frustrated Sherlock, but all he could focus on was the determined look on his boyfriend's face. John was trying so hard to help him, struggling through each step just to make Sherlock happy.

It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.

"What's wrong Love?" John's face as split in a slightly confused grin, and Sherlock realized he had stopped dancing.

Sherlock moved his hands up to cup John's jaw and kissed him, firmly enough to pull a shocked sound from the shorter boy. They stumbled back against the wall where Sherlock pinned his boyfriend, taking the upper hand for the first time, and deepened the kiss.

John's hands wound around his shoulders, pulling himself up on his toes to deepen the kiss further. Sherlock's hands landed on John's hips and he tugged the boy closer, whimpering as John bit down on his bottom lip and sucked gently.

John broke the kiss, dropping his head back against the wall and struggling to regain his breath. Sherlock kept pressing soft kisses to his neck and what little skin he could reach on his shoulders.

"Wh-What was that for?" John asked, his voice breathless and happy. Sherlock blushed, shuffling his feet and staring at the floor between them.

"I love you." He mumbled, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as e slowly came back to reality. Even though they had been intimate, Sherlock still felt uncomfortable initiating physical contact. John grinned and leaned up, catching Sherlock's lips in another kiss, leaving the dancer breathless and dizzy.

"I love you too, Tiny Dancer." John whispered, pushing off the wall and spinning so that Sherlock was the one pinned. Sherlock gasped as John sucked a harsh bruise just above his collarbone. "God, the things I want to do to you, right up against that mirror over there." Fire coursed through Sherlock's body and he clung to John, his body trembling.

John jolted away from Sherlock when someone cleared their throat by the door, leaving him unsupported against the wall. Sherlock slid down so he was sitting on the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and hiding his face, praying whoever it was hadn't heard what John had just said.

"Hope I'm not interrupting boys." The vaguely familiar voice of one of John's Rugby mates made Sherlock's cheeks burn even darker with embarrassment.

"What do you want, Greg?" John growled, clearly unimpressed with being interrupted.

"A bunch of us are going to see a movie tonight, wondered if you two wanted to join us. But since you're clearly busy defiling the mirror, I'll just tell everyone y'all are busy."

"Don't you fucking dare!" John's face was dark as he chased the cackling boy out of the studio, leaving Sherlock still curled in on himself against the wall.

 

He stayed like that until John's shoes appeared between his legs and he felt a hand run through his hair.

"Is he gone?"

"Yeah Babe, he's gone."

"Is he going to tell everyone?"

"Not if he knows what's good for him." Sherlock glanced up at his boyfriend shyly, unable to contain the smile that pulled at his lips. "You okay Love?" Sherlock nodded, letting John pull him to his feet.

"Get your grubby shoes off my dance floor." John laughed, pulling Sherlock close and leaning up to press a deep kiss to his lips. "S-Seriously, you're going to ruin the wax." John laughed again and kissed Sherlock once more before stepping off the floor, grabbing his bag and motioning for Sherlock to come closer.

"Alright Tiny Dancer, I've got to get home. Got a test tomorrow that I am in no way prepared for."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yours actually. It's not easy to focus on chemistry when you've got a gorgeous mouth wrapped around your-"

"Please stop! Someone might hear!" John laughed again and pulled Sherlock in for another kiss. 

"Sorry Love. Just, promise me you'll take it easy yeah? Stop when it starts hurting, and call if you need a ride."

"John-"

"Promise me."

"Fine. I promise."

"Good." John's grin was wide and happy as he pressed a final kiss to Sherlock's lips before stepping back. "I love you. See you tomorrow Tiny Dancer."

"I love you too."


	7. Playing Cupid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John set up Greg and Mycroft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Mystrade into this fic here lol...another one of my OTPs Enjoy<3

Hey.... – GL

Do you know if Mycroft is coming back at any point?? – GL

I still have one of the books he loaned me – GL

 

John laughed at his phone, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Sherlock groaned from his spot under the covers of John's bed, poking his head out and sending John a confused glare.

"Sorry Love, go back to sleep. It's just Greg." Sherlock pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed at his eyes, yawning sleepily.

"Hmm, who?" John chuckled again, reaching for his tired boyfriend and ruffling his hair fondly. Sherlock always seemed to forget who Greg was, calling him everything from Gavin to Geoffrey, but never Greg.

"You know, Greg, from the team? You call him Gavin?"

"Oh, right. George." Sherlock yawned again, stretching languidly and derailing any sarcastic comment John might have had. "What does he want this early in the morning?"

"Babe, it's six in the evening." Sherlock blinked at him for a moment before sending a withering glare at John's alarm clock.

"How long have I slept?"

"A few hours." Sherlock groaned and threw himself back onto the mattress dramatically, covering his eyes with his arm.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock mumbled, his voice muffled and shy. John crawled onto the bed and lay down beside his boyfriend, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and pressing soft kisses there. "This is not how I envisioned our afternoon going."

"It's fine Love, you need the sleep, and I had homework I had to finish." Sherlock huffed, wriggling as John nipped the skin on his collarbone gently. "You can always stay over if you want. Mum is working tonight-"

"Harriet is here John."

"So? She has headphones-"

"John!" Sherlock swatted his head, blushing darkly and trying to squirm away. John laughed and pinned Sherlock to the bed, kissing him deeply and making the younger boy whimper.

Sherlock stopped resisting and gave into the kiss, sighing as John moved from his lips to his neck. John fought back a triumphant grin as he felt the dancer timidly move his hands along his sides. These kinds of touches had been okay between them for over a month now, but Sherlock still got shy, he still hesitated when it came to touching John.

Sherlock tried to squirm away when someone knocked at John's door, but John kept him pinned.

"Shh, just ignore it, they'll go away."

"J-John-"

"I'm coming in guys!" Harry's voice came from the other side of the door, and John yelped as Sherlock dislodged him, sending him tumbling to the side. "Dad called, said you've been ignoring his messages." John groaned, dropping his head against the mattress. "You've got to talk to him eventually John."

"No, I don't. I told him that he was going to leave Mum like that, then he could lose my number too. Tell him to get fucked." John yelped as Sherlock swatted him, sending his boyfriend a mischievous grin. "That all Bug?"

"Yeah."

"Good, go put your headphones on then." Sherlock swatted him again and Harry made a sound of disgust as she slammed the door. "Come here Tiny Dancer, I want to-"

"No! John- stop that!" Sherlock giggled and tried to squirm away. John laughed because he knew the boy wasn't really fighting him, Sherlock could easily knock him off if he really wanted to. "W-Wait- John wait-" Sherlock shoved at his shoulders, and John let off the patch of skin on the boy's neck that he had been worrying into a nice mark.

"You know, you're making this really difficult Love."

"Y-You never told me what George said." John blinked down at his boyfriend for a moment, trying to place the name, before groaning again and rolling off him, reaching for his mobile.

"He wants to know when Mycroft is getting back." Sherlock frowned, propping himself up on an elbow and looking lost.

"Why would he care when Mycroft gets back?" John laughed, rolling onto his stomach and shifting closer to his boyfriend. "Do they even know each other?"

"They had chemistry together or something. Greg had a massive crush on him." Sherlock's face contorted in confusion and disgust, making John laugh harder.

"Why on Earth would- oh wait! I think Mycroft liked him too." John shot up in his bed, staring at Sherlock in disbelief. "Yeah, I seem to recall him mentioning that he thought his Chemistry partner was 'easy on the eyes' or something." An idea wriggled it's way into the back of John's mind and he allowed himself a mischievous grin. "I don't know why he thinks Mycroft is gone. He still lives in town, he just got his own place-"

"Call him." Sherlock glared at John, making him giggle again. "Seriously, call him and ask if he wants to join us for dinner, Friday night." Sherlock stared blankly at John for nearly a full minute before realization sparked in his eyes and he vigorously shook his head.

"No. No. Absolutely not. No." John laughed, shifting closer and nuzzling into the crook of Sherlock's neck, searching for that one spot he had found the other day that always made Sherlock turn into a quivering mass of limbs. "J-John-"

"Please Babe? I just want Greg to be happy."

"But, dinner? With Mycroft?"

"Please? I'll make it up to you. Remember that thing you wanted to try?" Sherlock stiffened slightly before groaning, throwing his arm dramatically over his eyes. "Is that a yes?"

"Fine." John crowed and flipped himself and Sherlock over, moving to rest between the dancer's thighs before he could react. "J-John-"

"I love you Tiny Dancer." John whispered, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend sweetly. Sherlock blushed and timidly traced the neckline of John's shirt, a pleased smile tugging at his lips. "You beautiful thing you." Sherlock's blush deepened and he tried to hide his face, but John stopped his hands before they could cover him, and kissed him again.

"I love you too."

 

 

You want to have dinner? With me? – M

 

John is insisting – SH

 

And you've agreed? What has he promised you? – M

Wait, actually don't tell me. I don't want that image burned in my mind - M

 

Good plan – SH

Will you come? – SH

Friday at 6PM. Angelo's – SH

 

What will you do for me? – M

 

Must we trade favors every time? – SH

 

Yes – M

 

Fine – SH

I'll not nick your card for a month – SH

 

You stole my card again?! – M

 

I plead the fifth – SH

 

That is America, imbecile – M

 

Fine, 2 months – SH

 

How about ever? – M

 

Can't promise that – SH

Oh! I know! - SH

 

If you say you'll pay, I will kill you – M

I know you have my card – M

 

Fine.... What do you want then? – SH

 

Cover for me at dinner next week – M

No questions – M

 

Deal – SH

See you Friday – SH

 

Fine – M

 

 

Mycroft knew his little brother was planning something, Sherlock would never just ask him to have dinner with them, no matter what his new boyfriend offered him. He only agreed to join them because he wanted to get to know this John character.

He was shocked to see Sherlock sitting alone at the table when he arrived.

"Where is your date? I thought-"

"Relax Brother Dear, John is on his way. He just had to drop his little sister off at home. Sit down, relax a little, maybe try unclenching for once." Mycroft rolled his eyes but sat, studying his younger brother carefully.

Sherlock held his gaze for nearly a minute before blushing and looking away, fussing with the menu. Mycroft felt a swell of pride and grinned, reaching his foot under the table to nudge at Sherlock's.

"You look happy, Little Brother." Sherlock's blush deepened, but a bright smile pulled at his lips.

"I am happy." He mumbled, grinning down at the menu before him. Mycroft felt his chest swell.

Sherlock hadn't had an easy life, having been bullied for most of his childhood for his love of dance and superior intelligence, and to see the boy happy now was something Mycroft had to make sure to thank John for.

Sherlock glanced up and his face turned impossibly brighter as he shot to his feet.

"John's here!" Mycroft followed suit and stood, straightening his suit before turning.

Panic coursed through him when his eyes met the eyes of Gregory Lestrade.

 

 

 

"What the- oh, I'm going to kill you Watson." Greg growled, trying to turn and bolt. John laughed, grabbing his friend by the hips and shoving him forward. "I swear to God Watson, you and your fucking boyfriend-" Greg fought to escape, but despite his shorter stature, John Watson was incredibly hard to fight off.

"Why are you getting so mad? It's just a friendly dinner-"

"Sod off, I know what you're trying to do here." Greg scowled at John's laugh, but let himself be pushed forward, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. "This is just a waste of time you know. Mycroft Holmes hated me-"

"Shut up, he did not. Now, smile and be charming. I know you can." They finally arrived at the table, and Greg made an effort to keep his eyes trained to the floor. John and Sherlock kissed and exchanged their greetings, and Greg stood as still and straight as possible. "Mycroft, you know Greg, right?" Greg forced himself to glance up, smirking timidly at the elder Holmes sibling.

Mycroft looked nearly as humiliated as Greg felt.

"Yes, I believe we had some classes together last year." Greg blinked, mildly shocked that the other boy remembered him.

They all jolted slightly when John's phone blared loudly.

"Sorry, hang on a second." John excused himself and stepped away, mumbling into the phone in what was clearly a fake conversation. Greg felt his chest tighten in panic as it became very clear that John and Sherlock would be ditching them. John made his way back, his face set in a grim line.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked, and if Greg hadn't known better, he would have believed the boy was genuinely concerned.

"Sorry, that was Mum. I've uh- I've got to go. My brother came by for a visit and I need to pick him up at the airport." Greg rolled his eyes, catching the confusion on Sherlock's face.

"But, you don't- oh! Right! I'm coming." Greg snorted at the exasperated expression on John's face.

"Sorry guys, guess we're going to be bailing on you. Stay and enjoy, eh? See you Monday Greg!" John grabbed Sherlock's elbow and pulled the other boy out of the restaurant, leaving Greg and Mycroft standing by the table.

"Did they just-"

"Yep." Greg popped his lips and nervously grinned at Mycroft, rubbing the back of his neck. "You can uh- you can leave, if- if you want. Don't feel obligated to stay or anything."

"John doesn't have a brother, does he?" Greg laughed, shaking his head.

"Nope, just a little sister." Mycroft nodded, chewing on his lip for a moment before sighing and straightening his jacket.

"Well then, it's clear that my little brother and his companion have noted a mutual interest between us, so if you are amendable, I would very much like to enjoy dinner with you." Greg was frozen for nearly ten seconds before he let out a snort of laughter. Mycroft looked affronted and his cheeks darkened.

"S-Sorry- sorry- no, don't leave! Just, since when do you talk like that?" Mycroft blush deepened and he smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry, I-I do that when I'm anxious." Greg grinned, his chest swelling with affection.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

 

 

John and Sherlock peered in the window of Angelo's watching the couple stand awkwardly for a minute. When Greg and Mycroft started laughing and moved to sit, John let out a happy crow and spun to face his boyfriend, grinning happily.

"We did it!"

"Yes, it would appear so."

"I'm so fucking glad that worked."

"It really didn't work-"

"Shush, let me be happy."

"I'm not stopping you from being happy."

"Greg is going to owe me, big time."

"Can we go home now?"

"But-"

"John, I want to go home," Sherlock leaned down, nuzzling into the crook of John's neck and biting gently. "I have other things I would rather be doing right now." Sherlock felt John tense against him, and felt the soft hum that rattled the shorter boy's chest.

"Right, sorry Love. I think I owe you something for behaving tonight, don't I?"

"Don't say it like that, I'm not a dog!"

"Yes Dear."

"Sod off."

"I love you."

"I love you too."


	8. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go to a house party

"Remind me again why I let you convince me to come tonight?" Mycroft groused, fighting with his tie again. Sherlock rolled his eyes and grabbed at the offending piece of clothing, swatting his brother's hands away and tugging the tie off. "Sherlock-"

"It's a house party Mycroft, not a dinner party. Did you leave any of your t-shirts here?"

"I'm not wearing a t-shirt to a party!"

"Oh, unclench for once! Gavin might have and easier time-"

"His name is Greg, and don't you dare finish that sentence." Sherlock laughed and hurried into his brother's old room, digging through the drawers until he found a shirt that would still fit his brother. He made his way back into his room and threw the shirt at Mycroft.

"Put this on, the wear your button-down overtop and leave it untucked and open." Sherlock turned back to the mirror on his wall, fussing with his hair again. He watched his brother in the mirror as he glared at the shirt for a moment before pulling at the buttons of his shirt.

"Since when do you give me fashion advice?" Mycroft grumbled as he changed into the outfit Sherlock had chosen for him. Sherlock finished with his hair and turned back to face his brother, grinning brightly.

"Since when do you get nervous. Brother Mine?" Sherlock chuckled as Mycroft blushed, tugging the t-shirt on over his head.

Sherlock's grin widened when he heard his phone ring, Tiny Dancer filling the small room.

"Really? Tiny Dancer?"

"Shut up, it's our song." Sherlock snapped at his brother before answering the call. "Mycroft is about to have a hernia, you two had better get here soon."

"Well, hello to you too, Gorgeous." John laughed, making a happy smile pull at Sherlock's lips. He loved hearing John laugh. "We just pulled up."

"Alright, we'll be right down." Sherlock hung up the phone and spun to face his brother, forcing a confident grin on his face. "Come along Brother Mine, our chariot awaits." He started to hurry out of the room, but was stopped by a firm hand on his elbow.

"Sherlock, are you sure about this? I'm sure John won't make you go if you are nervous." Sherlock felt the anxiety he had been fighting most of the night starting to grow in his chest and he turned back to his brother, blinking up at the older boy.

Mycroft, for all his irritating flaws, always took care of Sherlock, making sure he was safe and treated well.

"He wouldn't, and if I suddenly decide that I need to leave, I know that John will drop everything to get me out of there. I'll be fine Mycroft, the whole Rugby team is going to be there, so if anyone messes with me, I have a small army to back me up." Sherlock could see the concern in his older brother's eyes, and pushed down the urge to hug the taller boy. "Come on, they're waiting for us."

 

 

 

The party was loud, obnoxious, and borderline dreadful. Sherlock winced as one of the students swung from the banister, landing on the floor in a heap of screaming laughter. He shifted closer to his boyfriend's side, taking a sip of whatever mix John had handed him when they had arrived.

Sherlock glanced around, hoping to find Mycroft and Geoffrey somewhere amongst the crowd, but the pair was nowhere to be seen.

John was leaning against a wall, talking with one of the cheerleaders, Martha? Mary? Sherlock didn't remember what her name was, all he knew was that she was standing way too close and kept touching John's arm.

John laughed at something Margret said and Sherlock felt a wave of hurt and irritation crash over him as she giggled squeakily and gripped his boyfriend's elbow.

Sherlock moved to walk away, not wanting to watch as some pretty girl hit on his boyfriend any longer, but was stopped by a strong pair of arms wrapping around his waist.

"Where do you think you're going Love?" Sherlock gasped as he felt John's lips brush against his ear.

"I-I don't- J-John-"

"Hmm? What's wrong Gorgeous? Not having fun?" Sherlock blushed and let himself be spun around in John's arms, avoiding his boyfriend's gaze. "Hey, talk to me Sherlock, what's wrong?"

"She- she wanted you to-" his words were cut short by John's lips, pressing against his own softly. "I-I don't like her." He mumbled, blushing darker as John laughed.

"Yeah, that's Mary. We almost hooked up once over the summer, but nothing wound up happening." Sherlock felt a flare of jealousy and sent the girl a glare. John laughed harder and gripped Sherlock's hips, tugging him closer. "Are you jealous, Tiny Dancer?" Sherlock rolled his eyes and tried to push his way out of John's grip, but was promptly pinned against the nearest wall.

"J-John-" He gasped as he felt his boyfriend latch onto his throat, sucking and biting at the skin there. He heard someone saying John's name and glanced at the group of girls that were whispering and staring. "J-John- s-stop-"

"Hmm, nope. Don't want to." Sherlock sighed and pushed at John's shoulders, his cheeks burning hotter as the girls started giggling.

"J-John- people are watching-"

"So? It's a party, half of them aren't even going to remember anything by morning."

"John-" the Rugby player groaned and dropped his head against Sherlock's shoulder, his fingers tight against Sherlock's hips.

"Fine." John growled, pushing off Sherlock and taking his hand. "Come on then." Sherlock let himself be dragged up the stairs, blushing as the rest of the Rugby team noticed and whistled after them.

"John, why are they whistling?" John stopped and spun, pushing Sherlock against the stair banister and kissing him deeply. The Rugby team let out a chorus of approving shouts and whistles, but Sherlock was too lost in the intoxicating confidence of his boyfriend to care.

"They know I'm gonna fuck you senseless." John growled in Sherlock's ear, making his head spin. They had been having sex for a few months now, and Sherlock had never seen John quite like this. The Rugby player was confident on a good day, but this was a whole other level of confidence, and Sherlock found himself lightheaded in it's wake.

He let John lead him up the stairs, keeping his eyes trained on their joined hands as they weaved their way through the crowd of drunken students.

John stopped before a door and tried the handle, finding it unlocked, he pushed it open.

"Oi! D'ya mind?" A familiar voice came from the room, and Sherlock found himself shocked back to reality as he took in the sight before him.

His brother was sprawled out on the bed, shirt lying on the floor along with George's. The other boy was straddling Mycroft's lap, his face a mask of irritation and embarrassment.

Sherlock felt a wave of nausea and stumbled back, rubbing at his eyes and shaking his head. He heard John laughing, and tugged at his curls, trying desperately to dispel the image from his mind.

"Having fun Greg?"

"Sod off John!"

"Boy, sounds like someone needs to get laid."

"I'm working on it, now fuck off!" John laughed again, and Sherlock heard him close the door just before something struck the wood. He felt arms wrap around his waist and John's lips press against his neck.

"Alright Gorgeous?" John asked, still laughing.

"No! I just- I don't-" Sherlock groaned and hid his face in John's neck, swatting his boyfriend's head when he felt John laugh harder. "I never wanted to see that." He whined, clinging to John's shoulders.

"I know Love, I get it." John pried himself out of Sherlock's grip, his eyes sparkling with amusement and love. "Come on, lets go back to yours, eh? We'll send a cab to get those two when the call asking where we are. That will give us lots of time to be alone. Sound good Tiny Dancer?" Sherlock felt his heart swell for his boyfriend and he leaned down, kissing the other boy sweetly.

"You're sure? You were having fun-"

"Yeah, but you aren't anymore. And I'm not too keen on the thought of you having to keep quiet while I take you apart." Sherlock felt his knees go weak at those words, and let John lead him out of the party, once again losing himself in the confidence of his boyfriend. 


	9. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock spends Christmas with John and his family

The cabin was small, but it was so full of memories that John felt his heart swell almost painfully as he and Sherlock made their way up the walkway.

It was Christmas break, and John had talked Sherlock into coming with him to spend the holiday at his family's cabin. Sherlock's family was going to Paris for the break, but the dancer had chosen to stay behind, opting to attend the Christmas recital instead. So John had suggested they spend the break together.

He spun to face his boyfriend, unable to contain the glee that was pulling his lips into a wide grin.

Sherlock looked beautiful in the snow, the tip of his nose bright red in the cold air as he returned John's smile. He was bundled in his ridiculously long coat and blue-grey scarf, and his dark hair stood out against the snow.

"What are you staring at?" There was a blush on Sherlock's cheeks, and he was doing his best to look uncomfortable, but John just grinned wider and closed the gap between them, setting his bags on the ground and gripping Sherlock's hips, tugging the taller boy closer.

"Other than the most amazing, gorgeous boyfriend anyone could ask for? Nothing at all Love." Sherlock's blush deepened, and he gently swatted John's shoulder, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to John's lips.

"You're ridiculous."

"Oi! It's Christmas, I'm allowed to be ridiculous." Sherlock laughed, letting out a soft sound as John kissed him firmly. "I'm glad you came, Christmas would have sucked without you."

"John, we have spent the last sixteen Christmases apart, we would have been fine."

"Nope, I wouldn't have survived the week without my Tiny Dancer." Sherlock snorted in amusement, dropping his head against John's shoulder with a giggle. They laughed for a moment, enjoying each other's company under the gently falling snow.

"Can we please go inside now? I'm starting to get rather cold." Sherlock mumbled, nuzzling closer. John felt his boyfriend begin to tremble from the cold and hugged him a little tighter.

"Alright Babe, come on then, Mum said she'd have cookies and coco made when we got here."

 

 

John loved Christmas, the way everything smelled of cinnamon and pine, how the fireplace crackled pleasantly as he pulled his boyfriend close.

His Mum and Harriet had run into town, leaving Sherlock and John to fend for themselves.

"You know what I love about this place?" John asked, pressing a soft kiss into Sherlock's hair. The younger boy hummed, tilting his head back and smiling up at John. "There's no neighbours, no one for miles." He grinned as he felt Sherlock squirm against him. He knew the boy understood what he meant, and he was certain that he would never not love how easily he could make his boyfriend tremble.

"J-John-"

"I could make you fucking scream, and no one would know." John slipped one of his hands under the hem of Sherlock's sweater, brushing the skin lightly and smirking when his boyfriend squirmed again.

"J-John- they- they're going to be back soon-"

"So? We can be fast." John pushed at Sherlock's shoulders, wriggling out from under the skinny boy and shifting so he was resting between his legs. "Christ Babe, your legs just never end, do they?" Sherlock blushed and covered his face, clearly self-conscious. John pulled his hands away and pressed a firm kiss to his lips, smirking as the boy sighed softly. "Don't be shy Love, I love your long-ass legs." Sherlock's blush deepened and John leaned down, pushing the sweater out of the way to suck at his collarbone. "I love everything about you." He mumbled against the skin of Sherlock's neck as he started tugging at the other boy's sweater.

John had managed to pull Sherlock's sweater off and was in the middle of removing his own when his phone rang, startling Sherlock. He wanted to ignore it, but it was Harry's ringtone, so he answered.

"Yeah?"

"We'll be back in five, please have all penises back in their rightful places, and no unnecessary skin showing."

"Do you have to be such a brat?"

"I'm not being a brat, I'm just not too keen on walking in on my brother balls deep in my dance partner." Before he could say anything, Harry had disconnected.

John groaned and dropped his head against Sherlock's chest, contemplating what to do. Gentle fingers pressing against his shoulder brought his attention back to the beautiful boy beneath him.

"John, we should get dressed." John groaned again leaning in to kiss his boyfriend deeply again before pushing away.

"Sorry Love, maybe next time." An idea made it's way into his mind and he pinned Sherlock down, ignoring his protests. "When's your birthday?"

"January sixth."

"Perfect, we'll come out here for the night, and I'll fuck your beautiful brains out." Sherlock's cheeks darkened again and John laughed, kissing his boyfriend once more before standing, grabbing their shirts and handing Sherlock his.

 

They settled back onto the sofa, curled under a blanket while they watched Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Harry and their Mum arrived and joined them, Harry curling against Sherlock's other side just to make the other boy uncomfortable.

 

By the time the movie ended, John's Mum, Harry, and Sherlock were all asleep. John took a moment to glance around the small sitting room of the cabin, his heart swelling at the sight of his family and the boy he loved sleeping so peacefully.

It was shaping up to be the best Christmas yet.

 

 

The next day was filled with laughter, carols sung off key, decorating of cookies and the tree, and even a surprise visit from John's Grandparents.

 

John watched Sherlock throughout the day, his heart swelling every time the boy smiled. He loved seeing his boyfriend happy, and the joy that coursed through his veins as he watched Harry try to decorate Sherlock with leftover tinsel from the tree.

When Harry finally got bored of bothering Sherlock, John waved him over, gripping his hips and pulling him back to stand under the kitchen doorway.

"Why does Harriet insist on trying to decorate me?" John laughed and pulled Sherlock down for a deep kiss, making the taller boy moan softly.

"Because you're beautiful." Sherlock blushed, smiling softly at John's words. "Happy Christmas Love."

"Happy Christmas John." John kissed Sherlock again, smirking at the sigh that fell from the younger boy's chest as he licked into his mouth.

"Oi! Love-birds! Think you can keep your tongues to yourselves for a few minutes so we can open gifts?" John broke the kiss and glanced at his Mum, who was focused on digging gifts out from under the tree, before playfully flipping Harry off, laughing and ducking as she threw a pillow at them.

He yelped when someone slapped the back of his head, turning back to glare sheepishly at his Nan, whom he had forgotten was in the kitchen.

"Be nice to Harriet, John."

"She threw a pillow at me!" He whined, wrapping an arm around Sherlock's waist and leaning his head against a bony shoulder. "She could have hit my Tiny Dancer!" Sherlock blushed again and glared at John. Nan huffed, patting their cheeks affectionately and smiling.

"Oh you two, so sweet." Sherlock blushed darker and John grinned up at him, leaning up and pressing a wet kiss to his cheek, earning a groan of embarrassment and disgust from his boyfriend. "You know though, that kind of behaviour won't be tolerated in the Army Dearie." John's whole world compressed down to the way Sherlock tensed against him.

They hadn't discussed what would happen after graduation, they hadn't talked about their plans for after school, and where their relationship would go.

He offered his Nan a tense smile and glanced up at Sherlock. The boy was chewing anxiously at his bottom lip and staring at the floor. Nan stepped around them, and John turned Sherlock to face him, cupping his cheek and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Hey, don't think about that right now Love, let's just have fun, and we can talk about it later, good?" Sherlock nodded timidly, offering John a smile that was just a little too sad for Christmas day. "I love you."

"I love you too John."

 

 

Throughout the rest of the night, John did his best to take Sherlock's mind off what his Nan had said. Soon enough, the gifts were unwrapped and the family was sitting down to dinner.

 

As they ate, John once again glanced around at his family, his eyes landing on his boyfriend. Harry had seated herself across from Sherlock and was bugging him, as usual, by sneaking little chunks of cranberry sauce into his mashed potatoes when he wasn't looking.

The previous Christmas had been hard on their family, following his dad's sudden departure and new marriage. As John watched Sherlock flinching in disgust as he got yet another mouthful of cranberry sauce, making his little sister giggle hysterically, he felt his chest tighten with emotion. 

This was what last Christmas had been missing, laughter, love, and joy.

He didn't know how many more of these Christmases he would have with Sherlock, but he silently vowed to make every single one of them as amazing as this one. 


	10. Birthday Weekend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John takes Sherlock to the family cabin for his birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT WARNING!!!

John blinked awake, taking a moment to remember where he was before carefully extracting himself from his boyfriend's arms. Sherlock was still sleeping, so John quietly snuck out of the room, hoping he could throw together a quick breakfast before the boy woke up.

He made his way into the kitchen, making a mental note to put some wood on the fire once he was done with breakfast. They had come up to the family cabin for Sherlock's birthday, and John had forgotten how cold it could get at night.

He turned on the kettle and started some toast before moving to check the fire, trying to be as quiet as possible so he wouldn't wake Sherlock.

Once the fire was going, he returned to the kitchen, hunting through the cupboards for a pair of mugs that weren't too chipped.

It had been nearly two weeks since Nan had mentioned John's plans for after school, and so far, he had managed to avoid the topic. Things were going so well with Sherlock, and something told him that informing his boyfriend that he was planning on running off to join the army once he was graduated would destroy that.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard his name, mumbled from the doorway of the kitchen.

Sherlock stood in the entrance, hair sticking out in various directions and a dark, angry-looking bruise on the side of his neck. The sheet from the bed was wrapped around his thin frame, making him look dishevelled and gorgeous and well-fucked. John grinned at the younger boy, opening his mouth to comment on Sherlock's appearance.

The toaster popped, startling them both. Sherlock yelped, his feet tangling in the sheet as he tried to stumble away. John watched in shock as the taller boy crashed to the ground, not able to process what was happening for several seconds.

There was a few moments of tense silence before John let out a loud snort of laughter, clutching at his sides and whimpering as his stomach started aching. Sherlock hid his face in the sheet, blushing and well on his way to a full-blown pout.

John finally managed to get his giggles under control, kneeling in front of his boyfriend and digging the lanky boy out from the folds of his sheet and pressing soft kisses to his nose and lips. 

"Come one Love, I'm sorry I laughed at you." John nuzzled along Sherlock's cheekbone, gently pushing aside the sheet to uncover his torso, trailing gentle kisses down his neck and across his shoulders. "I'll make it up to you." Sherlock whimpered as John gently bit down on his collar bone, sucking another mark onto the pale skin there.

"J-John-"

"Hmm?"

"We- we're on t-the- the floor." John chuckled softly, moving back up to kiss his boyfriend deeply, pressing him back against the floor.

"So? No one else is here, I can have you here, on the table, over the arm of the sofa, wherever I want." John tugged the sheet off Sherlock's hips, sucking a dark mark into the skin of his neck as he pulled the other boy close.

Sherlock whimpered and tried to squirm away, pushing at John's shoulders gently.

"J-John-" John hesitated, pulling back slightly to give Sherlock some room to escape if he wanted to.

"You can say no Love, I don't want to push you-" Sherlock shook his head, blushing as he pressed a timid kiss to John's lips.

"N-No, I- I want to, just- just not on the floor." John laughed, kissing Sherlock deeply before pushing himself to his feet, pulling Sherlock along with him.

"Bedroom then?" John pulled Sherlock close and nuzzled against his jawline, pressing barely-there kisses against his skin. Sherlock shrugged timidly, his cheeks darkening as he avoided John's gaze.

John grinned, leaning up and catching his boyfriend's lips in a deep kiss. He stepped forward, crowding Sherlock back against the table. He gripped the back of Sherlock's thighs and lifted the taller boy onto the table, chuckling softly at the gasp that fell from Sherlock's lips.

"God, you're gorgeous like this Love." John mumbled, pressing wet, sucking kisses against the younger boy's neck. He felt Sherlock start to tremble as he finally freed the boy from his sheet, throwing the fabric onto the floor and moving his lips to mark his chest.

Sherlock squirmed against him, his fingers clinging to John's t-shirt and chest heaving as John gently bit down on one of his nipples, pulling a soft keen from the younger boy.

John shifted back slightly, running one of his hands along Sherlock's side and tracing the lines of his body, making him twitch and whimper.

"J-John- we- we don't- we n-need-" John smirked and dug into his pocket, revealing the packet of lubricant he had grabbed earlier. "Oh-" Sherlock's cheeks darkened and he smiled shyly up at John. "Y-You knew I'd- that we would-" John chuckled and shrugged, kissing him deeply as he ripped open the packet and slicked his fingers.

Since they had started this, it had become easier for Sherlock to relax and let John's fingers work him open. He was always tense in the beginning, his body resisting as John's first finger pressed in, gently easing him open.

Within minutes, Sherlock was whimpering loudly, his body relaxed and open as John teased his prostate.

John gently slipped his fingers out of his boyfriend's body, quickly pushing his pyjama trousers down and spreading some slick over his own throbbing erection. He leaned down, kissing Sherlock tenderly and threading his fingers through the boy's curls.

"Ready Tiny Dancer?" He whispered, lining himself up and gently pressing in as Sherlock nodded.

He loved watching Sherlock's face as he entered him, seeing the different emotions pass over the younger boy's face making his heart swell with love.

He paused once he was fully seated, pressing soft kisses to Sherlock's lips and face as he let the boy adjust. He pulled back slightly when he heard Sherlock sniffle, concern flooding him when he saw the tears in his boyfriend's eyes.

"Hey, what's wrong Love?" Sherlock shook his head, smiling shakily up at John.

"I love you John." The tremor in Sherlock's voice told John more than any words could have.

Sherlock knew, he knew as well as John did that they were loving on borrowed time.

"I love you too Tiny Dancer." John pulled his hips back, gently slipping out a few inches and pressing back in.

It was soft, tender, and loving. John made sure to put every ounce of emotion and love into every movement, every kiss, every touch.

He memorized every emotion that crossed Sherlock's face, cataloguing every sound as the younger boy came, spilling between them just before John pulled out and added his own mess to Sherlock's.

 

 

They spent the day curled together on the sofa, watching movies and not talking about the future.

 

Later that night, when John was about to suggest heading to bed, Sherlock spoke, his voice soft and sad.

"I got a scholarship for The Julliard School of Dance. If I accept I will be moving to New York in September." John felt cold fingers grip his heart as Sherlock's words registered. "You're going into the army, aren't you?" John drew in a shaky breath, nodding silently and pressing a soft kiss to his boyfriend's hair. "We're going to be okay, right John?" Sherlock sounded so scared, his voice small and shaky, breaking John's heart as he shifted, pulling the other boy up for a soft kiss.

"I'm so proud of you Tiny Dancer." John whispered, smiling proudly at his boyfriend. "And I love you so much. We're going to be fine Babe, promise. I'm not going to let you go that easily." Sherlock nodded, his eyes uncertain but hopeful. "Happy birthday Love."

"I love you John."

"I love you too, Tiny Dancer."


	11. Meeting the Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finally meets Sherlock's parents

John blinked awake, rubbing his eyes sleepily as he was pulled from his dreams by a soft pair of lips brushing over his neck and chest. He pried his eyes open, smiling up at his boyfriend, who was hovering over him, pressing soft kisses against his skin.

"Good, you're awake. I was getting bored." John chuckled, brushing a curl out of Sherlock's eyes and pulling the younger boy up for a soft kiss. Sherlock's nose crinkled slightly, but he smiled fondly and shifted slightly, returning to the task of kissing John's neck and chest.

A soft gasp fell from his lips as Sherlock's lips ghosted over one of his nipples. He threaded his fingers in his boyfriend's hair and closed his eyes, dropping his head back and cursing quietly as Sherlock timidly teased him.

It wasn't often Sherlock took the lead when they were together, preferring to let John have control, but every so often, especially when he was bored, he would initiate things.

A firm knock at the door startled both boys, John sitting upright and Sherlock popping up from under the blankets, his cheeks red and an overwhelmed scowl on his face.

"William? Darling, breakfast time!" A sweet voice that John didn't recognize came through the door, and he glanced at his boyfriend.

Sherlock's cheeks were darker than he had ever seen them and he looked as though he was on the verge of passing out.

"And bring your friend! Your father wants to meet him." Sherlock groaned and fell backwards, covering his face with the blanket.

"Yes Mummy, we'll be right down." Realization flashed through John, followed closely by a burning mortification.

"That's your Mum?" Sherlock nodded, keeping his face hidden under the blankets. "What? H-How- I-I thought-"

"They have been out of town for nearly three months on business. I assumed they were going to be gone for a while longer." John rolled off the bed, grabbing his clothes off the floor and trying no to panic. "Why are you freaking out? They know about us-"

"Sherlock! This is the worst way to meet your boyfriend's parents for the first time. How are you not melting with embarrassment right now?" Sherlock groaned, sitting up and letting the blanket pool around his hips. There were dark bruises covering his collarbone and chest, and John felt a wave of arousal wash over him.

One of his favorite things to see first thing in the morning was a well-fucked Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock, brilliant as always, seemed to read what was going through John's mind. His cheeks darkened and a timid, sly smile pulled at his lips. He stretched dramatically, letting out a soft moan as his joints popped softly. John felt his mouth run dry as he watched Sherlock's little show, and he shook his head, tugging his jeans on and doing his best to scowl at his boyfriend.

"Come back to bed John, I'm still bored." John choked on his breath, his cheeks burning at the thought of being with Sherlock sexually while his parents were waiting for them.

"Sherlock, they're downstairs-"

"Yes, and last night they were two rooms away while you were balls-deep in my arse. You didn't mind then-"

"I didn't know they were there!" John tugged at his hair, fighting to keep his breathing steady. He had been dreading meeting Sherlock's parents since they started dating, and this was not how he pictured it going down. "Babe, this- this isn't good. I-I think- I-I'm just going to sneak out-" Sherlock grabbed his hips and tugged him closer, nuzzling along his collarbone and running his hands along his sides.

"John, it's fine. They don't care, trust me." John nodded, cupping Sherlock's cheek softly and kissing him sweetly. "I love you."

"Love you too Tiny Dancer. Now, lets get dressed and go have a horrifically uncomfortable breakfast with your parents."

"I'd rather we just stay up here and-"

"Shirt and pants, now."

 

 

"So, how did you two meet?" John swallowed thickly, trying to remember how to speak. Sherlock's parents seemed like lovely people, but his father kept watching him with an expression that made his stomach swirl uncomfortably.

"He is Harriet's older brother, we met at a show." Sherlock was pushing his eggs around his plate, looking bored and uncomfortable.

"Oh, Harriet! Such a sweet girl." Mrs. Holmes gushed, smiling brightly at John while Mr. Holmes just frowned slightly and sent a glare towards his son. "Do you dance John?" Mycroft, who was sitting across the table from Sherlock, snorted, hiding his grin behind his glass of juice.

"Uh, no. I'm uh- I'm on the Rugby team." Sherlock rolled his eyes, kicking John under the table.

"John is captain of the Rugby team, actually." John blushed as Sherlock smiled proudly at him.

"Captain of the team, eh? Not exactly a long-term career, is it?" Mr. Holmes calmly set his fork down beside his plate and smiled at John, sending terror sparking through his mind. "What are your plans for after school, John?"

"Dad!" Sherlock snapped, his cheeks darkening with embarrassment.

"William, this boy is obviously important to you, and I want to make sure he is going to take care of my son."

"Believe me Father, John takes excellent care of Sherlock, right Brother Dear?" Mycroft quipped, making John choke on a mouthful of juice. The table erupted into chaos, John coughing violently while Mr. and Mrs. Holmes scolded their eldest son. Sherlock seemed to freeze, staring at his plate with wide, unblinking eyes as his cheeks turned a nearly unhealthy shade of red.

"Tell me, Brother Mine, how was your date with Gavin last night? Did he at least pay for your cab home after he finished-"

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes, don't you dare finish that sentence!"

"But Mummy-"

"That's enough! We have company!"

 

Once everything seemed to calm down, an awkward silence settled over the table, everyone focusing on their breakfast. John glanced up, catching Sherlock's eyes and winking, making his boyfriend smile shyly.

"I'm going into the army after I graduate." John broke the silence, speaking the words he had been trying to avoid saying out loud for so long. He saw the sadness on Sherlock's face, but offered the boy a soft smile before turning to look at Mr. Holmes.

The older man was watching him curiously, his eyes flicking between John and Sherlock rapidly, as though he could read the strain the words put on his son.

"Eventually I want to be a doctor, but I'll see where I end up in a few years." John shrugged, smiling sadly at Sherlock before placing his fork down beside his plate. "I uh- I actually have to go. I-I have practice."

John said his goodbyes, making his way up the stairs to gather his things.

He was nearly finished packing his bag when he felt timid hands settle on his hips. He grinned and spun, facing his boyfriend and pulling the taller boy in for a hug.

"That was horrific." Sherlock mumbled into the crook of his neck, making him laugh. "I'm sorry John, I thought Mycroft was going to be at Geoffrey's overnight-" John pulled back, cutting his boyfriend's words off with a soft kiss.

"It's fine, Love. I had to meet them eventually-"

"Yes, but this was not ideal." John laughed, kissing Sherlock again before stepping back, grabbing his bag and grinning up at the taller boy.

"Maybe not, but I guess it could have been worse. They could have walked in on us while I was-"

"Please don't finish that thought." John laughed again, tugging Sherlock close and kissing him deeper than strictly necessary. He smirked when the dancer whimpered against his lips, leaning into the kiss slightly. He broke the kiss when Sherlock was slightly breathless, resting their foreheads together and closing his eyes, fighting back the swell of emotion that tried to push at the back of his mind. "I love you John."

"I love you too, Tiny Dancer. I really have to go though, I'm going to be late."

"George can wait." John laughed, kissing Sherlock softly once more before stepping around the taller boy, pinching his arse cheekily as he made his way out of the room.

"I'll see you later Gorgeous." John left, bidding farewell to the rest of Sherlock's family and stopping to give Mrs. Hudson a quick kiss before stepping outside.

 

As he walked down the drive, he fought back the thoughts of their future, and tried not to focus on the pain he had seen in Sherlock's eyes when he talked of leaving.

He didn't want to hurt Sherlock, but something told him that there was no avoiding the pain that was looming on the horizon.   


	12. Rumours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock gets attacked and bails on John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT WARNING!!! Also, there is a bit of angst in this one, so be warned...

"Hey! Freak!" It took Sherlock longer than it should have to process the voice that came from behind him. By the time he was able to react, a hand was gripping his shoulder and spinning him, shoving him roughly against the lockers.   
Sherlock felt a flash of fear as his attacker knocked his books from his hands, scattering them across the empty halls. Anderson, the boy that was attacking him, laughed, sending panic lancing through Sherlock's body.

"What's wrong Tinkerbell? Not so brave without your little army standing behind you, yeah?" Sherlock tried to free himself, slapping Anderson's hands away and pushing off the locker, getting about a foot before he was thrown back. He yelped as his head connected with the locker, blinking rapidly to try to dispel the stars from his vision.

"Get off me." Anderson laughed again, keeping Sherlock pinned in place with a hand against his chest. The shorter boy shook his head, pulling away from Sherlock slightly.

"How many of them have you fucked eh? The whole team? Or is it just Watson and Lestrade?" Sherlock felt his cheeks darken as he struggled against the other boy. "The whole school thinks you're a slag, you know. Everyone knows you let the Captain of the rugby team pass you around like some group fuck toy-"

"Stop it-" Pain flowered across his jaw as Anderson's fist connected with his face. Tears slipped from his eyes as he struggled to escape, making his attacker laugh harder. "S-Stop, please-"

"You do know that no one likes you, right? Not even your precious boyfriend likes you. He just keeps you around 'cause you let him fuck you." Sherlock closed his eyes, shaking his head and trying to keep the harsh words out of his mind. "He's just pissed 'cause Mary Morstan wouldn't suck him off at the end of summer party, so he wooed the most untouchable guy in the school, just to prove he could."

"Get fucked, Anderson." Sherlock snapped, shoving the other boy away. "John Watson loves me, something I'm sure you know nothing about-"

"Watson doesn't love you, Tinkerbell. At least he won't when he hears what you did." Panic flooded Sherlock's mind at the cruel smile of Anderson's face. "Imagine how hurt your precious captain is going to be when he hears how easily you hit your knees for me. The school whore, just begging to be fucked-"

Sherlock fled, wiping the tears from his cheeks as he stumbled home, trying desperately to ignore Anderson's voice as it echoed through his mind. It wouldn't have been the first time someone had spread a rumour about him, but this one could easily destroy something he loved more than anything.   
  
  


_Hey Tiny Dancer! - JW_   
_Didn't see you at school today... Everything okay? - JW_   
_Hey... What's going on? - JW_   
_Babe? - JW_   
_Sherlock answer me - JW_   
_Babe... People are talking... - JW_   
_Sherlock please talk to me - JW_

Sherlock turned his phone off, slipping it under his pillow and burrowing further under the blankets. He couldn't face John, not after this.

His computer dinged, notifying him that someone was trying to message him. He swung out of bed and grabbed the laptop, opening his messenger app before he could stop himself. 

_Hey - JW_   
_Answer me please - JW_   
_What did Anderson do to you? - JW_   
_Sherlock - JW_   
_Please talk to me - JW_

Sherlock fought back the tears that tried to fall. He knew that he had done nothing wrong, but that didn't mean that John would believe him. 

_I'm sorry John - SH_

_What? Why are you sorry? - JW_   
_Babe? - JW_   
_What did he do? - JW_

Sherlock closed his computer and returned to his spot under the blankets, wiping tears off his cheeks.   
  
  


"Sherlock?" The dancer stumbled out of his routine, turning away from the boy that was standing in the entry way. He had managed to successfully avoid John for three days, skipping class and changing the hours he had booked for the studio. "Harry told me you would be here."

"J-John-"

"Where the fuck have you been?" Sherlock flinched, blinking away tears as he heard the pain and anger in his boyfriend's voice.

"I-I'm sorry-"

"Sherlock, look at me." He shook his head, wiping a tear off his cheek. A hand gripped his elbow, trying to turn him around. "Sherlock please-" John spun him, pulling a gasp from the taller boy as he was crowded back against the mirror. Sherlock tilted his head back, trying to hide the bruise that Anderson had left on his chin. "Christ Babe, did he-"

"J-John I-"

"Answer me, Sherlock. Did Anderson do this to you?" Sherlock nodded, closing his eyes tightly and trying to keep his breathing steady. John pushed away from Sherlock, tugging at his hair and breathing erratically. "Fucking cock-sucker! I'm going to kill him!" Sherlock blinked at the angry boy, trying to process what was happening.

"Y-You- you're mad at him?" John spun to face Sherlock, his face red and tears in his eyes.

"Of course I'm fucking mad at him! He hurt you!" John stepped closer to Sherlock, grabbing his hips and tugging him closer. "Why didn't you tell me this was happening, Love? I-I would have- I would have stopped them." Fresh tears fell from Sherlock's eyes as John leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "J-Just, please tell me it's not true. Tell me you didn't-" Sherlock shook his head frantically, leaning down to kiss the shorter boy timidly.

"I-I would never- he said-" John shook his head, kissing Sherlock again, slightly deeper than before. "Everyone thinks-"   
John stopped his words with another kiss, pressing Sherlock back against the mirror.

"Fuck what everyone else thinks. They're just jealous of us." Sherlock chuckled, dropping his head against his boyfriend's shoulder and giggling. "I don't blame them, I'd be jealous too if you were with someone else." Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's neck, blushing and hiding his face as he felt John begin to laugh along with him. "Seriously though Babe, where have you been? Do you know how worried I was?" Sherlock sobered almost immediately, guilt pushing at his chest uncomfortably.

"I-I'm sorry. I just- I was af-afraid-" Another kiss calmed him, bringing his mind back to the boy before him, letting him focus his thoughts.

"You thought I'd believe him." The hurt in John's voice pulled more tears from Sherlock's eyes. He fought against a sob that rose in his chest and nodded timidly, not meeting John's eyes.

A pair of lips, the ones he loved so much, crashed against his own, pulling a startled sound from his chest.

"God, you're a bloody git sometimes, you know that?" John growled against his lips, sucking and biting the bottom one as firm hands pressed his hips back against the mirror. "You know, I've been here for an hour, watching you dance."   
Sherlock gasped as John's lips moved down to his neck, leaving a dark bruise there. "You have no idea what you do to me Love."

Sherlock's mind spun as he felt John's fingers slip under his shirt, tracing the lines of his hips with practiced ease.

"F-Fu- J-John-"

"How long do you have the studio for Love?"

"U-Until- until six thirty." John glanced at the clock that hung on the wall, smirking dangerously up at Sherlock as he slid down to his knees. "J-John-"

"Perfect. Lot's of time then." Sherlock bit his lip against a whimper, dropping his head back against the mirror as John quickly worked his leggings down far enough so they weren't in his way.

A loud gasp escaped Sherlock as he felt John's mouth gently take the tip of his erection in his mouth, sucking softly and sending shocks of pleasure along his spine.

When it came to physical strength, both boys were pretty close to tied, but it was in moments like these when Sherlock found himself thanking every deity he could think of that his boyfriend was a Rugby player. The older boy was able to keep Sherlock's hips pinned against the glass with little effort as he slowly worked more of his length into his mouth.   
John pulled off Sherlock's member, smirking up at the dancer before taking three of his own fingers into his mouth, wetting them with saliva thoroughly.

A high-pitched whine escaped Sherlock as one of John's fingers pressed into him. There wasn't nearly enough lubrication, and it burned to the point of discomfort. He shook his head, squirming slightly.

"Okay Love?" He debated nodding, just sucking it up and taking it, but it was painful and he didn't want to upset John again. He shook his head, whimpering as John slowly slid the finger out.

"M-My bag, l-lubricant-" John hurried to his feet, catching Sherlock's lips in a rough kiss before crossing the room to rifle through Sherlock's bag.

"Why do you have lube in your dance bag?"

"M-Mrs. Hudson insisted I be prepared for anything." John's cheeks darkened as he laughed, returning to stand in front of Sherlock, lubricant in hand.

"You're sure about this? We can stop if-"

"John, I haven't seen you in three days, I really don't want to stop right now." John laughed, kissing him again before he lowered himself to his knees, popping open the cap on the bottle with a dangerous smirk.

John prepared Sherlock's body to accept him with ease, the process easier than it had ever been, and within minutes, he was rising to his feet, Sherlock's legs hooked over his elbows as he lined himself up and pressed in.

They were still for a while once he was fully seated, Sherlock's breathing going from erratic to slightly faster than normal. John leaned in closer, his erection brushing against Sherlock's prostate and making the younger boy's vision flash with stars. John's forehead rested against Sherlock's, their breath mingling as his hips started moving.

"Fuck- so gorgeous Love-" John whispered, kissing Sherlock deeply, catching a loud moan that nearly fell as he pressed against his prostate roughly.

"J-John- John please-" The older boy started moving his hips faster, the angle of his thrusts changing just enough to ensure he hit Sherlock's prostate with every action.

Sherlock came first, staining his t-shirt and nearly ripping John's jumper as he tried to silence his cries. John followed close behind, spilling deep within Sherlock's body as he muffled his own sounds against the taller boy's neck.

They slid to the floor, a tangle of limbs and sweat as the giggled breathlessly into each other's neck.

"Christ, I missed you." John whispered, pressing soft kisses to whatever skin he could reach.

"I'm so sorry, John." The older boy shook his head, smiling softly at Sherlock.

"Nothing for you to be sorry for Love, just promise you'll talk to me next time, yeah?" Sherlock smiled shyly, nodding timidly before pushing at his boyfriend's shoulders. "Alright, calm down there, Tiny Dancer."

"Get off, you're heavy and sticky. Not to mention you are making an absolute mess of the floor."

"Oi! You're the one with come leaking out of his arse." Sherlock felt his cheeks darken as John helped him to his feet.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Not mine. I can't help how fucking hot you look when you're dancing." John laughed again as Sherlock's cheeks darkened further.

They adjusted their clothes and collected Sherlock's things, leaving the studio hand-in-hand.   
  


As they were leaving the school, Sherlock caught sight of Anderson, leaning against the wall of the school. There were bruises covering his face, and his nose looked as though it had been broken several times over. He had a cast on one of his wrists, and when he met Sherlock's eyes, the terror that crossed his face was difficult to miss.

"John?"

"Yes, Tiny Dancer?"

"What happened to Anderson?"

"Got in a fight."

"John-"

"It wasn't me! He must have pissed off someone else-"

"Like Geoffrey, or Michael?"

"Possibly."

"John-" Sherlock stopped walking, glaring at his boyfriend. "How do you think it's going to look when word gets out that the whole football team ganged up on him after he attacked me? People already think I'm fucking half of them-"   
"They don't now. I made it very clear that anyone who says anything remotely close to that again will wind up just like him." Sherlock opened his mouth to protest, but was distracted by John's lips pressing against his own. "You're mine, Sherlock Holmes, and I don't like sharing my things, not even in people's minds."

"I love you, John."

"I love you too, Tiny Dancer."


	13. Jim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock gets in a fight when someone insults John

Sherlock stood in front of the school announcement board, reading the latest bulletin and fussing with his biology textbook. Graduation was in three weeks, and the whole school was buzzing about it.

There was a part of Sherlock that was excited about graduating, finally escaping the daily hell of school.

But graduating meant moving to New York, away from everything he knew.

Graduating meant losing John, something he was not at all ready for.

They hadn't discussed what graduating would mean for their relationship, not really. John kept saying they would be fine, that things would work themselves out, and as much as Sherlock wanted to believe him, there was always that side of him that screamed that John was wrong.

Sherlock jumped as he felt a pair of hands grip his hips, startling him out of his thoughts. He tried to squirm away, nearly panicking until he felt the familiar press of lips against his neck.

"Hey, it's just me Love." John's mumbled into the skin of his neck, calming Sherlock's nerves almost instantly. "Didn't you hear me calling you?" Sherlock blushed, shaking his head and turning in his boyfriend's arms, leaning down and kissing him softly. "Oh Tiny Dancer, whatever am I going to do with you?" There was a sort of mocking fondness to John's tone that pulled a blush along Sherlock's cheeks.

"I can think of a few things." Sherlock mumbled, his blush darkening as John grinned dangerously up at him. He could see the mischievous glint in the Rugby capatin's eyes that usually meant he was about to get rogered senseless, and couldn't fight the thrill that traced his spine.

"Hey boys!" A voice that Sherlock didn't recognize broke through the haze that had begun to cloud his mind, making him flinch and send an irritated glare towards whoever had interrupted their moment.

A kid Sherlock vaguely recognized from one of his classes stood next to him, a cheeky grin on his face and a nearly predatory glint in his eyes. Something about the boy sent an unpleasant chill through Sherlock's body and he felt John's grip on his hips tightening.

"D'ya mind, Mate?" John growled, the warning tone he used barely phasing the new boy, who merely glanced briefly at him before focusing on Sherlock again.

"You're Sherlock, right?" The other boy asked, stepping closer and raking his eyes over Sherlock's body, making his chest tighten uncomfortably as he nodded timidly. "I'm Jim." The other boy smirked almost shyly, shoving his hands into his pockets and bouncing on his heels. "I'm a friend of Mycroft's."

"Can I help you with something?" Sherlock tried for harsh, but the words came out softer than planned. Something about this Jim boy was making him uncomfortable.

"I just wondered if you wanted to go to the dance with me?" Sherlock blinked at the other boy, trying to process what was happening. He could feel the tension pouring off John, and ran his fingers along his boyfriend's neck, trying to calm the rugby player.

"I-I'm flattered, Jason-"

"-Jim-"

"-but I'm going with John." Jim finally turned towards John, a displeased sneer on his lips as he blatantly scanned the shorter boy.

"But he's so, ordinary." Anger flashed through Sherlock's mind as he felt John's shoulders drop slightly. He stepped away from John, moving closer to Jim. "I mean, look at him, so plain and boring, you'd never be bored with me-" the rest of the boy's sentence was cut short when Sherlock shoved him, sending him stumbling back against the announcement wall.

"Sherlock!" He ignored John's cry and grabbed the offending boy by the shirt collar, hauling him upright and pinning him against the wall. "Sherlock, stop!"

"Look at what he has done to you, made you into a mindless, anger-fuelled drone-" Sherlock drew his hand back, preparing to punch Jim for his words, but found himself dragged backwards, forced to stumble away from the other boy.

"Sherlock, that's enough!" John's voice filled Sherlock's mind as he fought, trying to get back to Jim. A crowd had begun to gather, and Sherlock caught sight of Geoffrey and Michael stepping between himself and Jim. "Sherlock, what the fuck-"

"He can't speak to you like that." John pulled him away, leading him down the hall and into the bathroom. "John-"

"You can't do things like that Babe." John pulled him in for a hug, tucking his face against Sherlock's neck and pressing soft kisses against the skin there. "What if he reports you for attacking him? It's not worth it, I'm not-"

"He called you boring, John! You are the farthest thing from boring." John huffed a frustrated laugh, pulling away slightly and leaning up to press a soft kiss to Sherlock's lips. "You're not boring, or ordinary, John. You are perfect and brilliant, and anyone who says otherwise is an idiot." John blushed, reaching up and brushing a stray curl out of Sherlock's eyes.

"Babe, I get it, believe me, but you can't go around attacking everyone that thinks I'm boring."

"But-"

"No, Sherlock. You can't. We only have a few weeks before-" John hesitated, fussing with the collar of Sherlock's dress shirt, blinking rapidly at the unspoken words. "I can't have you spending the last three weeks of school in detention, Love." John leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to Sherlock's lips. "Understand, Tiny Dancer? I want to spend every minute humanly possible with you, and I can't do that if you're suspended." Sherlock wanted to argue, to make John understand that he couldn't just stand aside while someone was saying such horribly wrong things about him, but instead he just sighed, resting his forehead against his boyfriend's and nodding.

John smiled brightly up at him, taking his hand and leading him out of the washroom. Greg was propped up against the wall across from the door, cocking his eyebrow at them as they passed.

"All good?" John nodded, tugging Sherlock close and wrapping his arm around his waist. The three of them made their way down the halls, ignoring the stares and whispers of the kids around them. "I don't think that Jim kid is going to report you, he kind of scurried away with his tail between his legs after you two left." Sherlock nodded, blushing lightly as he felt John's hand tighten around his hip. "What the hell happened anyway? I came in after it started-"

"He insulted John."

"He what? What do you mean?" John growled and stopped, turning to face Greg. His face was stone cold and serious, sending a spark of danger through Sherlock's spine.

"It's none of your concern, Greg. He's just jealous because he wanted Sherlock to go to the dance with him. Tell the guys, if anyone bothers him without valid reason, they will have to deal with me."

"But he-"

"No! He didn't attack me, verbally or physically. Sherlock attacked him. If you guys go after him we could all get in shit. Stay out of it Greg." Sherlock could see that Greg wanted to protest, to defend his captain, but the other boy simply nodded. John then spun to Sherlock, the frustration and concern in his eyes nearly making Sherlock ill with guilt. "Same goes for you. Unless he attacks you physically, you stay away from him, got it?" Sherlock blinked rapidly, glaring at the floor and nodding slightly.

"Yes John." Sherlock kept his eyes trained on the floor, not looking up as John sent George on his way, or when a tense silence followed. "I have to go." He mumbled, stepping away from John and turning, planning on making a quick escape. A firm grip on his elbow almost stopped him, but he pulled himself free.

"Sherlock-"

"I'm late for practice." This time, John let him go. He didn't look behind him as he hurried away, fighting back the tears of guilt that tried to fall.   
  


"John!" The urgency in Mikey's tone startled John out of his thoughts. His friend stopped before him, his face red and breathing fast enough for it to be unhealthy.

"Whoa, hey mate, breathe. What's-"

"Sher-Sherlock- there was a fight- in- in the studio-" John slammed his books shut, grabbing his bag and racing past Mikey, his thoughts a mix of anger and concern for his boyfriend.   
  


By the time John arrived at the studio, the halls were filled with students and teachers, all crowded around to see what happened.

John's blood ran cold as he pushed his way to the front, catching sight of the police officers and emergency workers blocking the doorway. A tall officer tried to stop him, keeping him out of the studio with a bored expression.

"Please- please, that's- that's my-"

"John!" Sherlock's voice came from behind the officer, who glanced back before stepping aside, letting John through.

Sherlock was seated on a stretcher, a nurse carefully patching up a nasty gash on his cheek. He had bruises covering his face and arms, the baggy t-shirt he wore while practicing torn along the collar, revealing a new bruise mixed in with the older ones John had left there a few nights ago. He hurried to his boyfriend's side, trying to figure out what had happened.

"And so the shining knight comes to his damsel's rescue." John froze, the voice echoing through the studio sending a spark of anger through his mind.

"Fuck off, Jim." Sherlock snapped, glaring at the other boy. An officer appeared, leading Jim and another boy John vaguely recognized towards the exit. Both boys were cuffed, and each had bruises on their faces, Jim's nose looked as though it had been broken, cotton stuffed in one of the nostrils and the cartilage crooked. John smirked at the other boy as he was led away before turning to face Sherlock.

The nurse was finished bandaging his cheek, and John waited until she had stepped away before closing the gap between them. He stopped himself before he could grab his boyfriend, reminding himself that Sherlock had been in a fight, and was probably in pain.

"John-"

"I thought I told you to leave him alone?" Sherlock rolled his eyes, tugging at the hem of his shirt and blushing. "Sherlock-"

"He attacked me, John." Sherlock snapped, his cheeks dark and lips turned down in a pout. "I was dancing and next thing I know he's there, insisting that I go to the dance with him. I said no and his friend threw me into the mirror." John glanced behind the other boy, noticing the shattered glass on the floor for the first time. "Charges are being filed, and the school is overlooking my involvement to avoid a scandal with Julliard." Sherlock gingerly slid off of the stretcher, wincing slightly as he straightened.

John covered his mouth with his hand when he saw the pain in the taller boy's face. He closed his eyes against the tears that started to fall, and let himself be pulled into his boyfriend's arms. Sherlock was hurt, and seeing him in pain was breaking John's heart. He was upset, angry, and scared. He clung to Sherlock, being careful not to hurt the other boy, but keeping him as close as humanly possible.

"John, it's okay-"

"No it's not, Sherlock. He could have killed you." Sherlock sighed, pulling back slightly and cupping John's face gently, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

"But he didn't, so there's no reason to be so upset." John sniffled, nodding slightly as Sherlock wiped the moisture from his cheeks. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. Not for a little while at least." John nodded again, leaning up to capture Sherlock's lips in a soft kiss. "Can we go home now? I'm hurting, and I really want to test a theory I have about adrenaline." John cocked an eyebrow up at his boyfriend, his suspicion confirmed as the boy blushed and chewed on his lip shyly. "I-I read something in biology the other day, and I want to test to see if it's accurate." John laughed, shaking his head and kissing his boyfriend again.

"I love you, Tiny Dancer."

"I love you too John."


	14. The Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John attend the school dance together

"Sherlock! Your date is here Darling!" John smiled at Mrs. Hudson as she closed the door behind him, sending him a sly wink as she walked down the hall.

John had been in this house many times, he had seen these walls almost every day since the first time he had picked up his Tiny Dancer so many months ago. Tonight felt different though, there was a tension in the air, and a sadness on his heart.

"John?" Sherlock appeared at the top of the stairs, his cheeks flushed and brow furrowed in confusion. "I-I thought you were going to text me when you got here?" John grinned up at his boyfriend, his throat tightening as the younger boy made his way down the stairs.

Sherlock was dressed in the same outfit he had worn on their first date, dark purple shirt and black trousers. He came to a stop on the bottom step, still blinking in confusion at John.

"I thought about it, then decided to be a gentleman and meet you at the door." John reached up, hooking one of his fingers through Sherlock's belt and pulling the other boy off the step. Sherlock gasped as John pulled him in for a soft kiss. "You look gorgeous, Tiny Dancer." The color on Sherlock's cheeks darkened and he chewed on his bottom lip, brushing a piece of lint off John's shoulder. John grinned, leaning in and nuzzling against the taller boy's neck, pressing soft kisses against the skin there. "Seriously Babe, you look amazing."

"J-John-" Sherlock mumbled, lifting his chin slightly to give John more room and clinging to his shoulders. "We- we could- I-I mean- Mrs. Hudson h-has a Bridge game tonight-" John leaned back, gasping dramatically and lightly swatting Sherlock's shoulder.

"Are you suggesting that we blow off the dance, just to stay home and watch Doctor Who?"

"I was actually suggesting we blow off the dance so we could stay home and blow each other, but if you'd rather watch Doctor Who, that is fine as well." John snorted, dropping his head against Sherlock's shoulder and hugging him close, laughing into the taller boy's shirt.

"Christ I love you."

"I love you too John, but seriously, Mrs. Hudson is gone tonight-" John laughed, kissing Sherlock deeply, pulling a soft whimper from the taller boy.

"Tell you what, if you come with me to the dance, and behave just long enough to snog on the dance floor and make that prick Anderson jealous, we can come back here and do whatever you want. Sound good?" Sherlock sighed, kissing John again before nodding and reaching for his coat.   
  


When they arrived at the school, John drove around to the far back corner of the parking lot, taking care to keep away from any other vehicles, while still staying under the streetlights.

"John? What's happening? Have you brought me out here to kill me?" John laughed, putting the car in park and winking at his boyfriend.

"Backseat, I have something for you." John climbed out of the car, ignoring the slightly irritated huff the other boy sent him. He slid into the backseat, reaching into his jacket pocket and breathing a sigh of relief as he felt the item he had hid in there. Sherlock also slid into the backseat, his cheeks slightly flushed and an amused smirk on his lips.

"Snogging in the back seat? Really John? Aren't my legs a touch too long for this?" John laughed, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to the dancer's lips.

"I love you." John whispered, shifting so he was facing the other boy as best he could. Concern flashed across Sherlock's face as he watched John, and he started anxiously chewing on his bottom lip. John felt a flare of guilt and reached over, using his thumb to gently coax Sherlock's lip from between his teeth. "Hey, what's wrong Love?"

"You got accepted into the basic training program." John dropped his hand, pain and sadness washing over him. Sherlock kept his eyes fixed on the seat in front of him, blinking rapidly as his breathing became shaky. "Wh-When do you start?"

"Two weeks from yesterday." Sherlock nodded, wiping his eyes hurriedly and sighing roughly. "Sherlock-"

"It's fine, John. We- we knew this was going to happen-"

"Yeah, but not this soon." Sherlock froze, starting to chew on his bottom lip again. "Babe, talk to me, please-"

"Can we just go to the dance now?" Sherlock pushed the door open, sliding out into the cold evening air. John pushed down the stab of hurt in his chest and followed his boyfriend, grabbing the taller boy's arm. "John-"

"I love you, Sherlock, and I'm not letting you walk away from me-"

"No, you're just going to take off to some God-forsaken desert to get shot at." John dropped his hand, blinking rapidly as Sherlock glared down at the ground. "I-I- John-" John reached into his pocket, pulling out the small, velvet box he had been carrying with him. He heard his boyfriend's breath stutter and sniffed, smiling sadly at the box he was turning over in his hands. "J-John-"

"I know I'm leaving soon, but I-I love you, and I don't want to lose you, so-" he opened the box, showing his boyfriend the ring. "Wear my ring?" Sherlock froze, blinking owlishly down at the ring box. "Sher-" John's words were cut short when the taller boy crashed into him, winding his arms around John's torso and burying his face in his neck. John laughed, pulling his dancer close. "That's a yes, then?" Sherlock pulled back, threading his fingers in John's hair and kissing him deeply.

"Of course it's a yes, don't be deliberately obtuse John."

"How dare you? I am not obtuse! I am more of an acute-" Sherlock kissed him again, pushing him back against the car and pressing against him.

"What time does the dance start?"

"Eight-thirty."

"What time is it now?"

"Eight-forty-five."

"Good, we have lots of time." John laughed as Sherlock pulled him off the car, opening the door and pushing him into the back seat.   
  


"Come on Tiny Dancer," Sherlock glanced up, blushing lightly as the Rugby team whistled at them over the music. John grinned, holding out his hand and winking. Sherlock grinned up at his boyfriend, taking his hand and standing, letting his boyfriend lead him onto the dance floor.

John spun him away, pulling him back against his chest and catching his lips in a sweet kiss. Sherlock blushed lightly as he heard the team whistling again. He hid his face in John's neck, laughing along with his boyfriend.

"They know we-"

"Oh, most definitely, asked as soon as we walked in." Sherlock felt the tips of his ears start to burn and avoided the gazes of the team, turning his gaze to the new ring that adorned his finger. "It's called a Claddagh." John mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to the skin behind his ear. "My father wore one when he first started seeing my mother. If you point the tip of the heart facing you, it means your heart belongs to another. Facing out means you're looking." Sherlock smiled, twisting the silver, heart-shaped band on his finger and watching the purple stone glinting in the disco lights. "It's just a promise ring, but when I get back, if you wanted, we could make it an engagement ring." Sherlock nodded, kissing his boyfriend softly before resting his head on John's shoulder.

They danced through a few songs, holding each other close as John sang quietly along with the music. A familiar set of notes echoed through the gym, pulling a grin onto Sherlock's lips. He pulled back, laughing along with John as the rest of the Rugby team crowded around them, singing loudly.

_Hold me closer, Tiny Dancer!_

John laughed, waving his friends off and blushing, he dropped his head against Sherlock's chest, still chuckling as the boys jumbled the words. Sherlock watched his boyfriend, his mind spinning as he took in the embarrassed joy on the other boy's face.

He felt his chest tighten at the sight, his mind slowly wandering back to their conversation in the car.

John was leaving, taking off to go get shot at somewhere across the world, while he was heading to New York to dance at some prestigious academy.

Sadness lanced through Sherlock's heart as John glanced up at him, licking his lips in that way that made his heart race and his head spin.

"Something wrong, Tiny Dancer?" Sherlock smirked, shaking his head before leaning down and kissing John deeper than strictly appropriate for a school dance. He felt the change in the shorter man's stature and grinned into the kiss.

"Can we go home, John? I rather want to finish what we started earlier." John's hands tightened on his hips, pulling him slightly closer.

"Oh, God yes." They left the dance floor, ignoring the whistles of their friends as they made their way out of the school.

They had less than two weeks left together, and Sherlock intended to make the most out of every minute.   
  



End file.
